The Last Place You Look
by slightlysickpsycho
Summary: Hermione is falling apart, and Snape realizes he's the only one who notices. Warning: cutting and eating disorder triggers. Rated for content in later chapters.
1. A Night Out

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: Story probably has some trigger heavy parts if you are a self injurer or suffer from an eating disorder.

Smut doesn't ensue until a few chapters in.

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Hermione braced herself, feeling the coolness of the bathroom sink pressing into her palms, fingers curled over the edges. She looked at her face in the mirror, pale and a little blotchy. She hated the soft roundness of her cheeks, the babyfat that seemed to cling to her whole body and make her look younger than she was. Yes, she had started to fill out in some places, a woman's body emerging, but not in the way she wanted. She wanted to be willowy and graceful, not pudgy and "cute". She liked her breasts. At least they made the softness of her stomah less obvious. Her stomach was relatively flat, but gave in too easily under the force of her prodding fingers. How she envied the other girls, with defined abs and portruding hip bones.

She had always been a "nice" girl, complimented on being bright and sensible. She wanted to be more. She wanted to be noticed, for heads to turn when she walked by. Splashing cold water on her face and taking one last steadying deep breath, Hermione turned and walked through the door to face the evening ahead.

"You alright?" Harry asked, shooting her a concerned glance. Ron interrupted before she had to recite her carefully constructed lie.

"Yeah, if you were in there any longer we would've had to form a search party!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine. Let's go." Hermione had been visiting the burrow for a week before classes started, and was sneaking out with Harry and Ron for a night out in a nearby muggle town. Although none of them looked quite old enough to get in to most clubs, Ron had been pleading with Harry and Hermione since overhearing Fred and George mentioning a few shadier bars.

"Come on!" he had pleaded earlier in the day, "we have to be back at school in two days. This is our last chance!" The three were going into their fifth year, and could tell from what they had seen with older students that they wouldn't have much free time. Hermione had argued that it wasn't fair to Ron's parents, that she and Harry were guests in their home and shouldn't be breaking rules. Harry had only put up slight resistance, thinking back to nights Dudley had come home drunk and remembering how obnoxious he was, how even the small amount of dignity he could normally muster had left him completely. In the end, the prospect of a night of freedom had lured them into agreement.

They set out, Hermione uncomfortably aware of the way her favorite jeans now hugged her thighs and behind. Even though her waist was a little smaller, she was sure she had put on weight in other places, and the food at the Burrow clearly hadn't helped. She made a mental note to eat fewer sweets.

The bus stop was a little more than half a mile's walk, and Hermione couldn't help but glance over her shoulder even after the house had disappeared behind them. As the bus whined to a halt in front of a cluster of stores with darkened windows, the three stepped out into the yellow orange glow of the streetlights. Running her fingers through her hair and smoothing out the front of her pale pink button-down shirt, Hermione followed the boys around the corner and into a worn down looking building, marked only with a flickering neon "OPEN" sign. The three exchanged a nervous glance before trading the crisp night air for the stagnant smoky heat inside.

Hermione sat down at a small table while Harry grabbed a third chair and Ron went to the bar to order drinks. Harry leaned toward Hermione, raising his voice so she could hear him above the music.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're acting a little weird."

"Yeah, fine" she assured him, as his head turned, gaze locked on a pair of flushed giggling girls in tight shirts, stumbling toward the bathroom arm in arm. Hermione felt a tiny stab of pain in the pit of her stomach as Harry turned away from her. The dull thud of three glasses hitting the table pulled her back to where she was. Ron gave Harry a beer and slid a drink toward Hermione, who eyed the pink beverage suspiciously. She couldn't help but be slightly offended by its less than dignified appearance, the bits of fruit floating on top speared by little plastic swords and topped with a pink umbrella. She took a tiny sip, surprised when the bitter sting of alcohol never hit her mouth. Aside from occasional wine at dinner with her parents, she had never really drank. Maybe, she thought to herself, it was better that she was starting with something that wasn't too strong.

Ron smugly lifted his martini, sipping it in what he must have imagined to be a dignified manner. Hermione stifled a giggle at the way he flinched when the taste hit him, and the hint of a shudder that shook him after the first swallow. She exchanged an amused glance with Harry.

Conversation was sparse as the night progressed, since it was hard to hear much of anything. For the first hour, they just took in their surroundings, sipping their drinks. When Hermione stood up to get refills, she was surprised by the soft feeling in her legs, and the way her head swam slightly. She walked over to the bar, placing each foot in front of the other with a little more care than usual. She leaned on the counter as she ordered, ignoring the pressure on her stomach and chest. The bartender, a man in his late 40s with leathery skin and gray stubble, looked at her questioningly as ordered, clearly aware of the tension in her falsely casual tone. For a moment, she thought he might confront her, kick her out. Instead he turned with a shrug to make the drinks. When she got back to the table, another girl was sitting in her seat while a second leaned on her and stroked her hair. Ron looked transfixed. Hermione wondered why her friends never looked at her that way.

"C'mon Mione. Dance with us." Ron slurred before draining another drink, letting one of the girls drag him toward the crowd that had congregated in the center, undulating drunkenly. She looked dubiously at Harry as he laid his hand on the second girl's back.

"We can all dance together." He assured her.

"It's ok. I think I'll just watch for now." She took a seat at the bar, leaning her head on her hand. A while later, she sensed someone leaning on the bar next to her.

"Hey sweet thing" a friendly voice said from beside her. She looked up. The guy standing beside her was tall and lanky, his dark eyes shining with mischief. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"A nice girl like you should be careful."

"Careful of what?" He just smiled at her and leaned in closer.

"Maybe we should go somewhere quiet so I can tell you."

"I can handle myself fine, thanks." She replied, turning away.

"Aw, come on, sweetheart. At least let me buy you a drink." Hermione was about to stand up and walk away, but froze on the spot when she noticed Ron looking tensely at her over the girl's shoulder. A small part of her wanted to know she was worth looking at.

"Fine." She sighed, "One drink." She felt annoyed by his satisfied smirk. He ordered himself a shot of vodka, then turned to her.

"I guess you'll be wanting something weak?" he asked, teasingly. "I bet a girl like you can't handle the strong stuff."

"Make that two." She said defiantly, turning to the bartender. He pounded his back immediately, then looked at her expectantly. She took a deep breath, and tilted her head back, tossing the cold liquid into the back of her throat.

This is my first fanfic, so I would really love some feedback. Thanks for reading!


	2. Rough Kisses

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Hermione was surprised by how easily the shot went down. The instant after was a struggle, as the bitterness hit her and she held still for a moment and forced her body to accept what she had just swallowed. The boy grinned approvingly, and ordered another before she had the chance to decline. The second shot went down even more easily than the first.

"So, do you want to dance or what?" he asked. Hermione hesitated for a moment, then followed him, unsteady on her feet. The dance floor was stiflingly hot, and before she realized what she was doing, Hermione had unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off, exposing her clinging white undershirt.

She was lost in the dancing, the loud music, and the floor vibrating beneath her feet. She felt bodies rubbing up against her in the small space, but she didn't mind. For the first time in as long as she could remember, her mind was quiet, leaving her the space to appreciate her senses. Then she was outside, behind the bar. The boy from the bar kissed her deeply, pressing his body into hers, hard. She felt the cool air around her, the mildly unpleasant movements of his slippery tongue, the rough bricks biting into her bare shoulders. She put her hand on his chest to push him away, but he just pressed into her harder, more roughly, and she let herself get lost again.

He pulled away when the door slammed open a few feet away. Harry burst into the night air, looking furious and terrified. Wordlessly, he stomped over to Hermione, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her back inside.

"Hi Harry!" she squealed delightedly. "Where are we going?"

"Home" he growled. Ron caught sight of them and followed into the night.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Ron exploded at her.

"I was thinking I'd have anovver- nother shot" Hermione giggled at her own joke. Harry ducked back inside and emerged with a bottle of water. He thrust it into her hands.

"Drink this." Hermione accepted it gratefully. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was. On the bus ride home, she leaned her head on Ron's shoulder and closed her eyes. The short walk from the bus stop took much longer than it had the first time. Hermione moved erratically, occasionally bumping into a tree when Harry and Ron didn't pay enough attention. She chattered happily. Harry and Ron had calmed considerably and laughed at her incoherent statements. As they drew closer, they tried to be quieter. Finally, Harry stopped and looked at her, blushing.

"Erm, Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry I got so mad earlier. It's just, you're my friend… I was worried."

"Nah!" Ron exploded, elbowing him in the ribs, "You're just jealous." They both started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips. "I _am _a girl you know."

"Yeah" Ron said, "sort of."

"It's just," Harry added, "we're your friends. Thinking about you like that is just… weird."

"Oh, right." Hermione tried to keep her face neutral. She didn't speak for the rest of the walk home. As soon as they got into the house, she made an excuse about being tired and crept as quickly as she could up to the room she shared with Ginny. She collapsed on her bed, fully clothed, and buried her face in her pillow hoping the sobs wouldn't wake the other girl. After a minute, she heard Ginny's voice.

"Hermione?" What happened? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." She responded, failing to keep the pain out of her voice. She felt the mattress sink under the weight of another body as Ginny curled up around her.

"Where did you go tonight?" she asked, gently stroking Hermione's hair.

"We went to a bar. But it was like I wasn't there at all. They didn't care." Hermione sobbed harder.

"They're just being asses" Ginny assured her. "Shh, it's ok"

Hermione fell asleep in the other girl's arms. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had held her, and it felt good.


	3. Confrontation

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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The train ride to Hogwarts wasn't much better. Harry and Ron couldn't stop talking about the girls in their year and how they had changed over the summer. Hermione stared out the window, wondering whether anyone had noticed her. She had always thought of herself as pretty average looking, but now she wondered if she had been too generous. At least once everyone changed into their robes she could hide her body.

The start of term feast made her slightly uncomfortable. She had been trying to eat less, but it didn't seem to be doing anything. Knowing it hadn't been long enough for her to reasonably expect to see changes didn't lessen the frustration. Instead of gorging on the wonderful food that surrounded her, she ate a chicken breast and some salad. She felt frustrated by the tiny, controlled bites she allowed herself, but carefully maintained her composure. If she could just maintain healthy eating habits for long enough, one day she could look more like other girls.

After everyone else had gone to sleep that night, Hermione found herself in front of the bathroom mirror again, lifting her robe over her head and letting it settle beside her on the floor. If anything, she thought, her stomach looked even softer than it had before. She prodded her hip bones, still hidden under a layer of fat. She felt furious with herself for letting it get so bad, and wondered why she had never noticed. She would have to try harder if she wanted to get any better. She was exhausted by the time she climbed into bed, but found herself unable to sleep. Even in the dark, when she couldn't see herself, she could feel the fat on her body, and she hated it.

The next morning her eyes felt heavy when the sunlight came in through the curtains. She showered and dressed before the other girls awoke, but lingered in the room, re-arranging the contents of her perfectly organized book bag as if preparing at the last minute on the first day of classes. Her eyes kept travelling to the bodies of the others, and she wondered if she could ever look so slender and feminine. Even when the last of her roommates had left for breakfast, she continued to linger.

Hermione caught up with Ron and Harry outside of the Charms classroom, mumbling an excuse about oversleeping as they took their seats. Even as she took notes during the lecture, her mind wandered. She had read ahead over the summer, and the first day of class was rarely important anyway. Maybe her approach to losing weight had been too informal and half-hearted. It would be harder to lie to herself if she took a more structured approach, if confronted the actual numbers instead of making excuses.

A few days later, as she pushed the food around on her plate, an owl landed in front of her carrying the scale she had ordered. When Ron opened his mouth to ask what was in the package, she said something about a book the library hadn't had, and rushed out of the room. Her diet had to be a secret. Having others know she was trying to lose weight tainted it, and she worried about what they would think of her if she failed. Besides, thinking about her problem made her so uncomfortable she imagined that discussing it with someone else would be unbearable. Knowing there was no time to return to the dormitories before class, Hermione ducked into an out of the way bathroom, hoping for a moment alone. As she burst through the door, her gaze locked with a pair of eyes in the mirror. A third year Ravenclaw girl she rarely talked to froze where she was for a moment before the knife she had been holding clinked against the tiled floor. The girl quickly pushed the sleeve of her robe down, but not before Hermione saw the seeping cuts on her arm.

"I'm… I'm sorry! I didn't mean to…" The shocked words tumbled out of Hermione's mouth as she rushed out of the bathroom, finding herself still out of breath when she got to class. Harry shot her a questioning look, but didn't press the matter. The hours between meals went faster and faster, while the time she spent in the great hall seemed to drag on at an agonizing pace. The first few weeks slipped past her at a blurring pace.

Hermione stared down into a hot mug of green tea. Against her better judgment, she had eaten a muffin at breakfast, and could still feel the sticky, fattening thing sitting like thick, heavy glue in her stomach. She would have to fast for the rest of the day to make up for it. She shivered and took another sip. The castle felt colder this year, but no one else seemed to notice. She had taken to wearing warm clothes under her robe. The back of her neck prickled and she glanced up at the staff table, blushing furiously when her eyes met Professor Snape's penetrating stare. She looked away quickly, and spent the rest of the meal pretending to be fascinated by her mug of tea.

In bed that night, she thought again of the way Snape had been looking at her. She didn't know why, but it gave her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt really alone. Harry and Ron had become frustrated with her constant distraction, and had slowly given up on pulling her back to reality by repeating each question they asked her several times. She couldn't help but wonder if they were as disgusted with her body as she was, if that was the real reason everyone was spending less and less time with her. For some reason her mind went back to the girl she had seen cutting herself in the bathroom. She had heard rumors about people doing that, but had never given it much thought. The image of it in her mind still shocked her.

Why would someone do that? Didn't it hurt? Maybe it was better than being numb. Hermione slid her hand into her book bag and pulled out a pair of scissors before creeping to the bathroom. The other girls were asleep now, so she knew she'd be able to be alone. Arm over the sink, she opened the scissors and pressed one of the blades to her skin. Pausing to look at it, she wondered if she would really do what she was thinking of trying. She felt a strange kind of excitement; she was afraid, but it felt good. The dull pain of everyday life had left her almost numb. She closed her eyes and pulled the blade across her skin, barely pressing down. A thin line of blood appeared on her arm. She didn't feel much different, she told herself, but a part of her felt like it had taken its first breath after weeks of suffocation. She crept back to bed and almost immediately fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Hermione felt exhausted even though she had slept deeply. As she stood in the hot shower, her head swam so badly she had to sit down on the hard floor, hoping none of the other girls would walk in. She paused, remembering what she had done the night before. She hadn't healed the scratch before going to sleep, and as she looked at it, she felt an odd surge of satisfaction. She decided to leave the mark there, as a reminder that no one could see her body, not until she lost more weight.

Meals had become even more unbearable, but she couldn't afford to miss them. People were starting to comment when she didn't show up, and sometimes shot her questioning or worried looks when they noticed how little she ate. She had resorted to hiding food in a napkin and throwing it away when she could. Her relationship with Harry and Ron had grown much more superficial than it had ever been. She couldn't talk to anyone like she used to.

Ginny found and cornered her on the way to Potions.

"Hermione, what's going on with you lately?"

"Nothing. I'm just busy. I have a lot of work."

"I'm serious. You're not acting like yourself and you look awful."

"Thanks."

"You've lost a lot of weight. You're really pale."

"I have to get to class." Hermione stalked off as quickly as she could. It was almost impossible to concentrate in class. She almost ruined her potion at one point because she was so lost in thought.

"Miss Granger" Professor Snape said sharply, almost in her ear. Hermione drew in a small gasp, startled by his sudden appearance, and stiffened up a little.

"While I'm sure whatever you're thinking about is utterly fascinating, if you can't tend to your work properly I'm afraid you'll have to leave." Hermione felt the heat rush into her face as she quickly moved the violently boiling cauldron out of the fire.

"You will see me after class, Miss Granger, to explain to me exactly what it is that's so much more important than tending to a highly volatile potion." Hermione was dumbfounded. What could she possibly say? The rest of the lesson raced by before any reasonably good excuses came to mind. She packed up slowly, and stood in front of his desk, feeling naked under the intensity of his gaze. They stood in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"Well?" Hermione looked down, and after waiting for a response that didn't come, he continued, "If you are going to be in my classroom, I expect some basic competence and responsibility. If there is something distracting you, you need to address this issue." He stepped around the desk toward her, never breaking his gaze. Her hear skipped a beat as the image of her body pressed against his flashed briefly in her mind. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but it was hard to hear over the buzzing in her ears. She felt hot and dizzy, trying to look as remorseful as she could in hopes that he would let her leave.

"Miss Granger, are you listening?"

"I'm sorry Professor, I'm just a bit tired…" Hermione was starting to feel worse, and tried to steady herself by grabbing onto the desk. Her teacher's face softened almost imperceptibly.

"You look unwell. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No!" The strength of her reply startled them both. "I'll be alright. I just need a drink of water." She turned to walk away, her heart racing, but as she let go of the desk, dizziness overwhelmed her and the floor swooped up toward her. As she drifted away, she felt his surprisingly strong arms wrap around her.


	4. Unwell

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed this! It makes writing it more fun. The smut is approaching more slowly than I thought it would, but I promise it's coming.

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Severus Snape was a man who liked his privacy. He always kept his distance from people at the school, especially students. He found small talk utterly unbearable, and when he took the time to get to know someone, it was usually a disappointment. He didn't understand why he was suddenly noticing the Granger girl, but he told himself it was mere curiosity. Something had changed about her, and it was bothering him that he didn't understand what. She had come back looking smaller and more fragile than he remembered, and she rarely spoke in his class anymore. He had never been able to stand the girl. While other teachers were delighted by her mind, he had been annoyed by her need for approval. It struck him as the product of insecurity, and he found her need for validation deeply irritating.

Somehow, without her unnatural enthusiasm, teaching had become even more draining. He had little time to ponder this mystery while he had her in class, since keeping his idiotic students from killing themselves required his full concentration. It was during meals that he often found himself watching her. She looked especially fragile then, surrounded by her peers. She seemed smaller than she used to, more timid and pale. She sat listlessly prodding the food in front of her while beside her, Ron devoured everything within reach. From what Snape could see, it didn't appear that anyone noticed the changes taking place. He tried to broach the subject with Dumbledore without revealing his growing fascination with the young girl.

It was an unusually clear night, and as they strode across the dewy lawn toward the castle, Snape stole a glance at the older man's serene face.

"Severus, is something on your mind? You've been giving me the most peculiar looks this evening."

"I was wondering if you had noticed anything different about Miss Granger this term. Though I must admit that since she has spoken less in class I've found her presence much less irritating, the girl seems troubled."

Albus sighed. "She is at a difficult age, and changes in her behavior could simply indicate that she is unsure of herself and growing accustomed to a changing identity. She has not acted out, nor have her grades during the term suffered significantly, so the best thing we can do is give her the space to grow into the woman she's becoming."

"She looks unwell."

"I think," Dumbledore continued, "that considering the accomplishments she has shared with her close friends during her time here, we can trust that she is in good hands."

Snape knew that pressing the matter would cause nothing but trouble. Dumbledore was an unusually brilliant man, but like her equally idiotic friends, couldn't admit to himself that something wasn't right.

Every time he saw the girl, she seemed weaker. He wanted to speak with her, to find out what was going on, but feared that his attention would only cause her to retreat deeper into herself. As he watched her standing over her furiously bubbling cauldron, she seemed to grow paler by the minute. He wasn't aware that he had stolen closer to her, afraid that she would collapse, until he heard himself speak.

At the sound of her name, Hermione blinked, her eyes clearing as if her mind had suddenly returned from some distant place. Reluctantly, the potions master returned to his desk, reprimanding the girl and insisting that she explain her behavior at the end of class.

As the students began to clear out, Professor Snape noticed an anxious look crossing the girl's face before she gathered her things and walked toward him. As he started to reprimand her, a delicate pink flush crept up her cheeks. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of thought had caused the sudden change, but the tiny rush of excitement in the pit of his stomach was quickly replaced by the heaviness of guilt. The blush didn't fade from her cheeks a moment later as he had expected. Instead, it deepened and spread over her face, suddenly taking on an unhealthy hue. He noticed her knuckles whiten as she gripped the desk.

"You look unwell. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" She quickly declined, looking alarmed. He was instantly behind her as she turned to leave, searching for a way to stop her, to find an answer to the questions flooding his mind. She wobbled on her feet as she took her first step away from him, before sinking into his arms.

Her body felt smaller than it had looked beneath her robes. Snape felt something protective swelling inside him as he took the alarmingly light girl in his arms. He cradled her to his chest, pausing for a moment. It would be best to take her to the hospital wing immediately, yet… Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. He remembered the look on her face when he had mentioned it, and knew that he would have to handle the situation very carefully if he wanted to avoid leaving her more broken than she already was, if he hoped to gain her trust.

Sighing, he carried her over to the supply cupboard. Pushing the door open with his elbow, he shifted her weight to one arm and reached past a collection of dust caked vials on the top shelf. His long fingers quickly found the latch, and the shelf slid back revealing a dimly lit spiral staircase.

Laying her on the dark leather couch in front of his fireplace, Snape laid a blanket gently over her limp body. He cringed inwardly as something shifted inside him, responding to her beauty and vulnerability.


	5. Realization

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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Hermione didn't open her eyes right away. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, or where she was. Slowly the details returned to her, and a small groan escaped her pale lips. Snape had been pacing anxiously, trying to decide on a course of action. He had already made what he knew was a very inappropriate decision, but felt like any other option would have only made things worse for the girl. As she began to stir, he sank into the dark oversized chair near the fire, and waited.

This must be the hospital wing, Hermione thought. Harry and Ron would be worried sick. Maybe they had already heard she was here. She couldn't feign sleep for much longer. She dared to peek through her long eyelashes, then immediately opened her eyes. Instead of the harsh brightness of the hospital wing, she was surrounded by warm light, and dark, rich colors. There was a fire in front of her, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Professor Snape eyeing her with concern from a nearby chair.

"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" His voice wasn't dripping with its usual disdain, but she wasn't sure whether she heard any warmth or concern, either. His face was a blank mask, with the exception of those dark eyes, burning with curiosity.

"I'm fine. Much better, really." This room felt warmer than most of the castle, but even with the comforting weight of the the blanket draped over her, Hermione shivered slightly, sitting up and drawing her knees to her chest. Her vision blurred slightly as she sat up too quickly, but returned to normal before Snape seemed to have noticed anything amiss. He looked at the way the girl huddled under the blanket, and felt another surge of protectiveness.

"Are you cold?" She shook her head quickly, still shivering. Her professor sighed and stood up, moving to sit beside her on the couch. Her cheeks flooded with pink as he drew her into his arms.

She didn't want him to feel her body, not the way it was now. It suddenly occurred to her that he must have carried her to where they sat now. She drew in a breath, opening her mouth to protest, but stopped short as his smell filled her lungs.

Snape smelled like autumn, like spiced cider and dried leaves, a fire burning outside on a cold October night. She sank against his body, and gave in to the warmth that radiated.

He wanted to leap to his feet and run far from his chambers, far from anything that reminded him of this girl. He was disgusting, perverted, to use her illness as an excuse to hold her in his arms. It should have occurred to him that a warming spell would have sufficed. As the shivers subsided and she melted into him, he pushed the thoughts from his mind, knowing that pushing her away now would hurt her much more than if he had never allowed himself to get tangled up in this mess in the first place.

"I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, Miss Granger." She could hear in the stiffness of his voice that he was far more uncomfortable than she was. "You seem unusually cold for someone using such a thick blanket." Hermione felt a tiny stab of pain, wondering if this closeness was only out of pity, because she was so weak. Feeling his body against her, hearing his dark velvet voice in her ear, inhaling his scent, she felt a strange sense of relaxation wash over her. She was exhausted, and she felt safe. If he hadn't pressed the conversation forward, she might have drifted back into sleep.

"You lost consciousness in my classroom. May I ask how you think this happened?"

Hermione's face reddened, and she stared into the fire. "I felt a little tired, that's all."

His long, graceful fingers tipped her chin up. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as her eyes met his.

"When was the last time you ate?" His eyes were searching hers. Her heart beat faster (nervousness, she told herself. Nothing more.) Even as his strong hand kept her face trapped under his startling eyes, she forced herself to look away.

"I possibly… might have missed lunch." Hermione waited, wondering if her excuse would be accepted. Instead of speaking, Snape just looked at her for a long time. She had never noticed the depth of his eyes before. Their darkness wasn't shallow, but rich and full of secrets. She could feel warmth rising to her cheeks, and realized with horror that her face wasn't the only part of her that had grown warm.

For the first time in years, Severus was rendered speechless. He had never been particularly kind to her, and he understood why she was shutting him out now, when his interest in her was probably most unwelcome. Still, he could tell from her response to his question that the delicate creature beside him was more troubled than he had allowed himself to believe. Reluctantly, he rose. A stab of guilt ran along his spine as he struggled to ignore his desire to fall back onto the couch and pull the girl into his lap.

She was, after all, just a girl. His student. The feelings she stirred up in him were misplaced, and needed to be stifled. He would need to be more careful about his interactions with her in the future.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to return to your dormitory in your present state. However, if you are able to regain some energy by eating and agree to rest for the remainder of the afternoon, a trip to the hospital wing may not be necessary." He hated himself for threatening her with clearly unwanted medical attention, but knew that she would agree to his conditions to avoid it. A part of him wished she would go to the hospital wing instead, leaving him space to breathe and ponder the days events.

"I think I'll be fine after some rest, professor." Hermione didn't want to agree to eating, not with him there, watching her.

"Very well. Please wait here while I get you something to eat."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. There are only a few hours left before dinner and I feel much better than I did earlier. I should be fine until then." Professor Snape pressed his lips together, anger flashing briefly in his eyes before he turned and left the room.

The angry look, fleeting as it may have been, was not lost on Hermione. She wondered why it would matter to him whether she ate, when it clearly didn't matter to anyone else. It wasn't long before he returned with a tray bearing soup, bread, and a glass of pumpkin juice. His motions were graceful as he placed the tray before her and sank into his chair. Hermione looked at the food before her, feeling anxious. After a long pause, Snape spoke.

"I assure you the food hasn't been poisoned." The warmth she thought his voice had held before was gone now. She saw her own pain and anxiety reflected in the deep eyes that punctuated his stoic face.

The soup tasted better than Hermione had expected, and she found the warmth very soothing. After the first few bites, fullness start to set in. She took a sip of the pumpkin juice, irritated that even the drink was fattening. Snape's intense watch made her very uncomfortable. There was no way for her to make it seem as though she had eaten more than she had. Was he doing this on purpose? Hermione stubbornly finished the meal, hoping it would assure him she was normal.

She felt bloated, swollen. She wanted to be alone.

"Thank you for the soup, Professor. I feel much better now, but I need to get going. Ron and Harry will wonder where I've been." She stood.

"And what do you intend to tell them, Miss Granger?" Snape suddenly realized what people would suspect if they knew he had brought her here, but knew he couldn't ask the girl to keep this secret.

"That I was feeling under the weather and needed some rest." Though her stomach often ached with hunger, now that Hermione had eaten it swam uncomfortably. She needed to get away, now. Reluctantly, Snape led her to the door of his chambers. Thanking him again, she strode away quickly. She could feel the food rising in her throat, couldn't bear to have it in her any longer. Pressing her hand to her lips, she dashed into the first bathroom she saw.

Had he offended her? The girl had left so abruptly. He supposed it was unrealistic to hope she would stay with him longer, but still… He lingered in the doorway as she rushed away from him, watching her robes dance behind her. As he turned to move back into his chambers, he saw Hermione pushing into the bathroom.

Understanding settled heavily on his shoulders. He sat in his chair by the fire, face in his hands.


	6. Dreams

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Hermione collapsed into her bed, letting the curtains fall shut around her. Sunlight still spilled in through the windows, piercing the gap between the bed's hangings. Fully clothed on top of the covers, she buried her face in the pillows, falling asleep before the tears shining in her eyes had travelled down her cheeks.

She was standing in the dimly lit Potions classroom. Snape sat at his desk, grading papers. He seemed unaware of her presence. She stood nervously at her table. No one else was in the room. She looked down at the empty table, a nervous blush creeping into her cheeks. When she looked back, a tiny gasp escaped her lips. Snape was gone.

"Miss Granger" the warmth of his breath on her neck sent a shiver through her body. His voice was quiet and deep, filled with loathing. "What are you doing in my classroom?"

She turned to face him, taking a step back from the uncomfortable closeness. His eyes burned into hers with a fury she had never imagined. Hermione grew more flustered as she desperately tried to come up with an explanation, suddenly realizing she couldn't remember why she was there.

"I… I don't know, Professor" she murmured weakly. He lifted his hand, and for a moment, she thought he was going to hit her, but instead his fingers slid lightly over her hair and down her cheek. Her body tingled where his skin touched hers. As his hand touched her neck, something changed. The hunger in his face grew deeper, and his hand travelled to the back of her neck, grasping her hair. His kiss was forceful, almost violent, sending a wave of ecstasy through her body. She could feel her nipples hardening against her robe, and realized she wore nothing beneath it. His other arm wound around her waist, and she felt the warmth of his slender, muscular body against hers. She felt a jolt of electricity between her legs as his erection pressed into her hip. He lifted her robe over her head, kissing a trail down her collar bones to her small but perfect breasts. He stood up, his gaze never leaving her, and started to unbutton his robe, revealing a pale and flawless chest. She could see the faint outline of muscles moving beneath his skin as he lifted her and sat her on the table, standing between her spread legs. He put a hand on her chest and pushed her back. Hermione let out a tiny moan as he pushed himself inside her, feeling her body arch with desire…

Hermione gasped as she jolted awake, the sudden movement causing her to tumble out of bed. Lavender poked her head through her curtains, looking surprised.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah… bad dream" Hermione whispered, realizing how she must look, flushed and gasping on the floor, fully clothed and tangled in her bed hangings. The room was dark now, and she wished she hadn't let herself fall asleep so early. After that… strange and disturbing dream, she doubted she would be able to sleep again that night. Sighing, she decided she might as well get dressed for the coming day.

The hot water felt good on her sore muscles. Hermione took a longer shower than she had dared to enjoy in weeks, since at this early hour she didn't have to worry about other girls being awake when she got out to get dressed. As the air around her grew heavy with steam, she finally felt calm enough to think about what was going on in her life.

She knew she had a problem with food. Maybe some people would consider her anorexic, but she didn't think she was nearly that bad. Anyway, once she lost enough weight she could go back to eating more again. Hermione looked down at her body and sighed. She looked a little smaller, but her flesh had grown softer still. She realized she would have to find a place where she could do some exercises without being disturbed.

Hermione realized that as a result of using homework to avoid uncomfortable conversations, she was ahead in all of her classes. She decided to walk down to the library as soon as it opened, and look at a few books she might not feel as comfortable reading in front of others. Was there something wrong with her?

She avoided looking at her body in the mirror as she dried off. She put on the jeans she had worn to that muggle bar over the summer. It hadn't been two months, but she felt as though that night had been very long ago. The pants barely touched her skin as she pulled them up, and once she had fastened them, she realized they were far too big. She tried to restrain her elation. Something about the intensity of her response made her uncomfortable, and she still had a long way to go before she could feel satisfied with her body. After pulling her shirt on, she stood in front of the mirror to brush through her long chestnut hair. It didn't seem as shiny as it used to, and the amount that she noticed the brush had collected made her slightly uncomfortable.

Once she returned to the dormitory, Hermione pulled a belt around her waist to hold her baggy pants and covered it with a long sweatshirt. When she sat down to write to her parents, she also sent for some vitamins. Hopefully she would be able to compensate for any nutrients she was missing by restricting her food intake. By the time she finished sending the owls, the library should be open.

Severus Snape opened his eyes slowly, buried in the depths of dark silk sheets. He hadn't slept this poorly many times in his life. From the moment he had crawled under the covers exhausted and confused, he had been haunted by dreams of Hermione. He dreamt of drawing her close, stroking her hair and keeping her safe.

He dreamt of kissing her, touching her, pressing his body hard against hers, of doing things to her that no teacher should ever do to a student.

He dreamt of chasing her, of grasping her too tightly, and watching the fragile creature turn to dust in his arms, impossible to grasp, drifting away…

He felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Reluctantly, he rose to face the day.


	7. Questions

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Nothing Hermione could find in the library was particularly helpful. She imagined that books containing information that could help a student hide health problems would be confined to the restricted section. After returning to her room to pull a robe on over her clothes, Hermione ran into Ron and Harry in the common room and went with them to breakfast. Harry kept shooting her inquisitive looks, but didn't interrupt her artificially cheerful banter with Ron. When pressed for details on her disappearance the previous afternoon, Hermione cited "women's problems", and watched Ron's ears glow crimson as he rushed to change the subject. For the first time in a while, she felt oddly cheerful.

Ginny gave her a suspicious look when she only ate an egg white and half a slice of toast, but seemed satisfied when Hermione gave her the same excuse she had offered Harry and Ron, claiming her stomach was more upset than it usually got. Actually, her monthly cycle seemed to have stopped dead in its tracks when she returned to Hogwarts, but she knew stress could do that. Since she was still a virgin, she really hadn't given the sudden halt much thought.

Morning classes went by at a lazy pace today. Harry and Ron were actually including her in conversations again, and she found the lectures slightly more interesting. Still, she felt tired, and her mind kept replaying her vivid erotic dream. Sadly, by lunch, the day had already started to decline.

When Ron asked her why she wasn't eating, she tried to tell him her stomach still wasn't right. Harry said she didn't look healthy, and that he really thought she should see Madam Pomfrey. Being the center of so much attention was far worse than being ignored. Hermione thought back to the fading mark on her arm where she had cut herself with her scissors. She felt a strange sense of focus as an idea came together in her mind. She swore loudly, interrupting Harry's analysis of the most recent Quidditch match. Her friends gaped at her in shock.

"I forgot my Potions homework!" As she jumped up from the table, she let her elbow knock her unused knife to the floor. No one noticed her pocketing it when she reached down to get her bag. She shot a quick smile as she turned to leave.

"If I leave now I might manage to finish in time. See you in class!" She was gone before anyone had a chance to respond. She ducked into one of the bathrooms in the dungeons, knowing it would be deserted with the rest of the students upstairs in the great hall.

Between her robe and her sweater, Hermione was unable to push her sleeves up very far. Ducking into an empty stall, she pulled off both garments and sank to the floor. The blade in her hand gleamed up at her like a tiny mirror. Loathing the thought of her own reflection, again she pressed the blade to her skin.

This time wasn't like the first time. She felt a rush of... something. It wasn't pleasure that flowed through her, but it wasn't the dull, empty ache she had grown to loathe, either. She stared at her arm, transfixed, as the shocking red began to glisten against her skin. Hermione didn't know how long she had been lost in what she was doing until she heard the door push open and the room fill with the voices of other girls. She stood quietly, suddenly aware that the handful of bandages she kept in her bag wouldn't be useful for covering so many cuts. If she didn't get to class soon, someone was bound to notice that she was missing. She quickly removed her shirt and pressed it to her arm. She flattened it as neatly as she could before pulling her sweater on to hold the fabric in place and letting her body get lost in the vastness of her robe.

Professor Snape's mind had been occupied for most of the day. He wanted to help Hermione, but was unsure of what to do. All of the people who were supposed to be there for her were ignoring her when she needed them most. Would pointing out the obvious do any good? At the same time, he knew that something dangerous was growing inside him, and didn't want to nurture it by spending more time alone with her. He was shocked to realize how quickly the time had passed when he saw Ron and Harry entering the room. Hermione wasn't with them, and Snape wondered if she was coming at all.

She rushed in nearly ten minutes late, avoiding eye contact with him. She looked nervous as she rolled up the sleeves of her robe to begin work on her potion. He wondered why she hadn't rolled up the sleeves of her sweater as well, but pretended not to notice. His mind went back to how cold she had been the night before, how small she had felt in his arms, the smell of her hair…

As she struggled to open a vial, he caught sight of a small spot of blood on the arm of her sweater. He noticed that her arm looked padded, slightly thicker than the other. What had happened to her?

"Granger!" she flinched at the harsh sound of his voice, nearly dropping the vial that had just opened in her hands. "I expect you to speak with me after class to discuss an appropriate consequence for your late arrival this afternoon."

"Yes, sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper. The image from his third dream flashed before his eyes once more, the tiny body crumbling to dust in his clutching arms, drifting away into nothingness…

When class ended, Hermione vanished with the other students, already gone when he looked out into the hall.

Hermione didn't go to dinner that night, nervous about facing Professor Snape. She imagined that he would be furious with her. Unfortunately, Ginny noticed her absence and cornered her in the common room.

"You weren't at dinner."

"I was doing homework. If I let myself fall behind…"

"You didn't eat lunch either." Ginny interrupted.

"I know, I know, I've just been so busy."

"Hermione, you know you can talk to me, and I know there's something-"

"Listen, I'll head down to the kitchen now and get something to eat."

"I'll come with you."

"No, that's ok. I have to stop and grab something from the library. I'll see you later." Hermione left before Ginny could continue to insist. She probably did need to eat something, even if it was just something small, and a cup of tea would be nice. She entered the basement, careful to take a path that avoided the dungeons, in case Professor Snape had chosen to stay late in his office. Unfortunately, as she reached out to tickle the pear that would grant her entrance to the kitchen, she heard a deep velvet voice.

"Exploring after hours, Miss Granger?" Her stomach sank as she turned to face the potions master.

"Professor- I'm sorry about earlier today. I missed Transfiguration yesterday, so I was hoping to get there early and find out what I needed to do, and I forgot you wanted to meet with me." Instead of seeing the fury she expected in his eyes, she saw sadness. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"Hermione, what's going on? You've been so quiet this year. I know you've barely eaten, and I know the little you ate yesterday made you ill." He had never used her first name before. The way her body responded to his voice was more intense than the way any boy had ever made her feel. As she started to recover from the intensity of her daydream, she became aware of what he had been saying, and hugged herself, leaning against the wall. When she didn't speak, he continued.

"Today was the first time you've ever been late for my class, and it looked like your arm was bleeding. Were you hurt?" Overwhelmed, she turned to leave, but agile fingers wrapped around her wrist, gentle but firm. She turned to face him, flinching as he pulled back her sleeve.

She had started to pull the fabric away earlier, but it had stuck to her wounds, threatening to reopen them if she moved it. She wouldn't be able to do anything about it until the other girls were in bed and she could run water over it in the shower.

Snape didn't speak. His eyes darkened with understanding before Hermione could make an excuse. She knew he wouldn't believe any lie she came up with. His grip loosened, and she tore her arm free and ran.


	8. To Be Held

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: description of cuts might be a little graphic in this chapter.

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Hermione didn't think about the direction of her footfalls, or to look behind her when she pressed her palm to the tiny stone that opened the passage Harry and Ron had never seen a reason to use. The sound of her movement was muffled by the layer of dust on the familiar stone steps, until finally she flung open a door and her lungs were flooded with crisp night air. She stood for a moment, looking down from the top of the Astronomy tower at the moonlit grounds.

Hermione waited for her racing heart to slow, but it didn't. The air felt thin, and her breaths came faster and faster, giving no satisfaction. Head swimming, she fell into a sitting position and hugged her knees to her chest, praying for the ability to rest. She felt afraid, but didn't know why. Her chest hurt like it might explode.

She was startled as she felt a cloak fall over her shoulders, and the intoxicating smell coming from it told her instantly whose it was. Severus Snape sat down beside her, and after a moment, pulled her into his lap. Hermione's panicked breathing was interrupted by her small gasp, and she looked up at him questioningly. He didn't speak. He just wrapped his arms around her, letting her head rest on his chest as he stroked her hair.

Slowly, she calmed down. She knew it was wrong to love being in his arms, especially in these circumstances. She shifted so that she could face him, and his hold became gentler but did not cease.

"Professor, may I ask you something?"

"You may ask, but I cannot promise an answer."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because you deserve it. Because you need it. Because I am not made of stone."

She puzzled for a moment at his answer. His fierce dark eyes stood out sharply in the moonlight, and the glow of his flawless pale skin was breathtaking. Hermione couldn't help but imagine the way the rest of his body would glow. She hadn't even realized she was cold before, but she shivered beneath his cloak and huddled closer to him.

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside." He gently lifted her out of his lap, and they stood. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, he lifted his cloak from her shoulders and adjusted it on his own. When he stepped into the hallway, his face was once more a cold mask.

"Please follow me, Miss Granger." He paused for a moment, and added in a quiet voice, "If you are unable to discuss these matters with me, I will be forced to ask the headmaster to help you address them." He walked to the dungeons at a brisk pace, Hermione barely keeping up. Fortunately, due to the late hour, they did not run into anyone. Hermione wondered why they couldn't talk in his living room like they had the other night, but didn't dare complain. The dungeons would be very cold, even this early in the term. She was even more puzzled when, after checking the hall to confirm that they weren't being watched, he led her into the classroom.

"My office can be rather cold at times, and I don't think you would appreciate that in your current condition."

She looked even more confused as he opened the supply closet and stepped in. When she didn't follow, he poked his head through the door and sighed.

"Come on Hermione, I haven't got all night." He had used her first name again. She was puzzled, but couldn't resist moving closer to him. She gaped as the staircase was revealed. "I'd appreciate if you didn't mention this little passage to anyone." Hermione nodded in response as he stepped back and gestured toward the dimly lit winding stairs. Hesitantly, she walked before him, feeling his cloak brushing against her back. The steps were small and uneven, and she was glad he was close enough to catch her if she stumbled.

"We'll need to do something about that arm." Snape led her to his bathroom. He took her hand in his, and pushed her sleeve back. The thick material still covered some of the wounds after being rolled up as much as it could be. There were more thoughts and feelings coursing through Hermione than she could begin to make sense of. He sighed.

"Are you wearing a shirt underneath that?" Reddening, she shook her head. "It's alright. Wait here." He vanished, returning with a crisp white button down shirt with short sleeves.

"Please change into this. I need to get a couple of things. I'll be back in a moment." He set the shirt on the counter and vanished, shutting the door gently behind him. Hermione noticed that the mirror in front of her opened, and felt an inexplicable desire to see what her Potions professor kept in his medicine chest. Resisting the urge, she turned away from the mirror.

She was glad the sweater was loose. Her arm hurt much more than she thought it would, and wiggling out of her top without inflicting more pain took a surprising amount of effort. She was relieved that the shirt he had brought her would be fairly easy to put on. Before buttoning it, she pulled the collar up to her face and inhaled the traces of his scent that lingered on the clean fabric. She was startled to hear a soft knock on the door.

"Come in." She said, wrapping the shirt more securely around her body before beginning to button it.

_She looks so small_ he thought to himself, seeing that the sleeves nearly reached her elbows. He sat a wooden box beside the sink before turning to face her.

When Snape gently lifted her to set her on the counter, Hermione's dream came back to her. She blushed, thinking of him lifting her onto the table in the empty classroom…

"Are you alright?" The hardness he had worn on his face as they walked through the halls had melted away as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yes." Her voice was gentle, barely above a whisper. He took her arm in his hands again, and she marveled at the feel of his touch. She let go of the shirt that still clung to her arm as he examined it. His face was serious, and for a moment she wondered if he was angry with her. She waited for some sort of lecture, but instead he turned on the tap, adjusting the temperature carefully for a moment before looking at her.

"Your arm needs to be cleaned, and I'm afraid it will not be pleasant. I need you to tell me now if you have any other injuries that need attention."

"No Professor. My arm is the only place… I'm sorry for doing this to you."

"I'm not the one you've been hurting, Miss Granger." Carefully, he held her arm over the sink, soaking the bloodstained shirt with tepid water until it slowly stopped clinging to the partially healed cuts. His eyes darkened as he gently peeled the fabric away, revealing several angry red lines. He sighed as he pulled a blue glass bottle out of the wooden box and poured a small amount of thick liquid into his hand. His touch was lighter than she expected as he washed away the dried blood.

Even now, his touch was soothing. His agile fingertips awakened a hunger within Hermione that she doubted any other man on Earth could provoke with his entire body. She cringed, imagining the pain she would have felt if she had cleaned her wounds herself. As he dried her arm, she realized that many of the cuts had reopened, despite how gently her makeshift bandage had been removed. He rubbed an opaque silver balm over her entire forearm, covering the cuts. It felt cool on her skin, and the pain started to fade the instant it touched her.

"This should allow you to heal faster, and, more importantly, will eliminate any infections that may be developing as a result of your poor wound care." He was now wrapping a clean white bandage around her arm. "I believe," he added, his voice growing slightly sterner, "that your arm isn't the only part of you that is suffering damage. It would be utterly irresponsible if I didn't address the matter of your weight."

Hermione's heart sank. Professor Snape was the last person she wanted to have this conversation with.

"I didn't think it was that bad, sir."

"How much do you weigh?" She reddened at this question.

"I'm not comfortable discussing that with you. At any rate, I've been very careful of what I eat lately and I'm sure the extra weight will be gone before…" She trailed off, noticing the shock and anger in his face. The bandage was secure now.

"Hermione, I'm afraid I'm going to have to weigh you. If you continue to lose weight like this, I'll have no choice but to speak with Professor Dumbledore and contact your parents. Your health is suffering severely, and this has to stop, now." His heart sank as he took in the betrayed look on her face, but he set a scale on the floor before her.

She glared at the inanimate object as though she were staring down a deeply loathed enemy.

"Ninety-four pounds." The number left a bitter taste in his mouth. "How much did you weigh at the start of term?"

"Professor, I'm not sure, I…"

"How much?" His voice was firmer now, even though the tears forming in her eyes sent a jolt of agony through his body.

"One nineteen." The sound escaping her lips was barely a mutter. Snape closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as a sigh escaped. He wondered how this could have gone on so long, how everyone around her, himself included, had watched, oblivious, as she wasted away. Suddenly, he became aware of how tired she looked.

"It is late, Hermione, and you need rest. We can continue this conversation in the morning. I will give you a sleeping draught and escort you to your room. You are to meet with me here as soon as you wake up. If you wish to shower you may use mine, but I do not intend to leave you unsupervised without having a better understanding of your emotional state." He offered her his hand, and she took it, sliding down from the counter and allowing him to seat her before the fire. She drank from the mug he offered her without complaint, enjoying the sense of peace that swept over her as the warm liquid entered her body.

Snape stared into the fire, lost in thought. A moment after she had finished her potion, he heard her gently rhythmic breathing. The strength of the potion he had given her was appropriate for her weight, but she must have been much more exhausted than he had imagined, strengthening the potion's effects. In this state, he could hardly expect her to climb the stairs to her dormitory. He doubted that she could even walk very well. Sighing, he took her in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He set her down gently, trying not to disturb her as he slipped the blankets over her sleeping form. Unable to resist, he bent over and kissed her forehead softly. He thought he saw a small smile touch her lips as he turned to leave the room.


	9. Loss

Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. I really appreciate all of the reviews and promise to update again soon!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Hermione was kissed awake by a small spot of sunlight spilling across her face. Eyes still closed, she smiled, imagining his warm lips. She inhaled deeply through her nose, savoring the way his smell mixed with the scent of clean linens. Suddenly, she realized where she was, and what had transpired the night before. She was still wearing his shirt. Though Hermione was by no means eager to face the coming day, she knew prolonging her dread wouldn't make things easier. Slowly, she stood up and padded over to the bedroom door. She paused a moment, listening for the sound of voices. Reassured by the silence, she shyly entered the sitting room.

Severus Snape was sitting in his chair near the fire, sipping tea. Hermione marveled at the man's solemn beauty. His hair cascaded softly around the delicate lines of his porcelain face. His eyes were closed gently, and he looked so lost in thought, Hermione hesitated to speak.

"Good morning, Miss Granger. I imagine you've slept well?" Slowly, he rose from his seat, turning to face her. "I apologize for the strength of the sleeping aid I offered you last night. I failed to anticipate how strongly it might affect you."

"Erm, that's fine… Really, I've been a lot of trouble for you, and I'm very sorry."

"Don't be. I shudder to imagine what you would do to yourself over time if left to your own devices."

"I don't mean to be rude, Professor, but I have to ask, why do you care what I would do to myself? No one else seems to care."

"Hermione, you're wrong. The people around you care about you very much, perhaps too much. They have allowed their desire to see you happy interfere with their ability to see how much you're struggling right now."

"That doesn't explain why it would matter to you."

"I would expect someone as bright as you are to understand that it is possible to care deeply for others without feeling compelled to smother them with sentimentality."

Hermione nodded slowly. Was he telling her that he cared about her, or was she selfishly twisting his words?

"If you'd like to continue this conversation, it will have to be over breakfast." She grew nervous as he led her into the kitchen, pulling a chair back and gesturing for her to sit.

"Would you like some tea first?"

"Please." As he placed a cup in front of her and took his seat across the table, Hermione began her usual breakfast ritual of staring down into her tea. It felt very unusual sitting with her Potions professor at his breakfast table, and she was unsure how to behave.

"What would you like for breakfast?" he asked, voice soft.

"I'm not very hungry this morning, sir." Her eyes didn't meet his.

"I did not ask whether you intended to eat this morning. I asked what you will eat. I understand that your body will need time to adjust before you are comfortable consuming normal portions, but I would like to remind you that I will not be able to honor your desire for privacy for much longer if you are not willing to start caring for yourself more. If I notice you absent from meals, or failing to consume a reasonable amount, I will not hesitate to do what is necessary to help you become well."

"I like egg whites…" Hermione offered feebly, as though trying to convince herself of it more than anything else. Snape rolled his eyes.

"I hope you're going to cooperate with this." He rose and began preparing the food. As the enticing aroma filled the kitchen, it made her stomach churn. Hermione sipped her tea, letting several long moments pass in silence.

"I think," the professor said, throwing her a quick glance before turning back to the stove, "perhaps this would be more comfortable for you if we talked."

"Fine. What do you want to talk about?" His face held the same patient focus, maybe even tenderness, Hermione had witnessed on the rare occasions she had caught a glimpse of him preparing a potion alone. There was no denying the man's strange beauty.

"Tell me about your life. You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. I will not hesitate to ask you questions, but will understand if you prefer not to answer some of them."

"Wouldn't that be kind of boring?"

"You've always seemed relatively well adjusted. I must admit to being somewhat curious about the abrupt changes in your personality as of late." A small blush crept into her cheeks at the mention of his curiosity. Why would such an intriguing and brilliant man care about her meaningless drama and high school angst?

"Well…" she was unsure of what to say. "My parents are both dentists. I, um, like to read. Sometimes even muggle fiction. I like writing that's poetic and dense, but if Harry and Ron ever found out, the teasing would never stop." She grew quiet again, wondering what else there was to say.

"I am not entirely unfamiliar with muggle literature. Which books are your favorites?"

"I love Faulkner and Nabokov. I read _A Tree Grows in Brooklyn_ for the first time when I was eight, and have been in love with it ever since." Her blush deepened as she fervently hoped her professor had never heard of the second author.

Snape had always loved Nabokov's work for its beauty, complexity, and utterly erotic perversion. He felt a small surge of arousal. He would have never imagined that the young girl in front of him could appreciate even the most brilliant work containing this kind of depravity. Before his thoughts could grow more dangerous, he made an effort to change the subject.

"I have never read the book you mentioned. What do you like about it?"

"It's about a girl growing up in poverty. There are a lot of painful things in her life, but the beauty she finds in the decaying city around her always gave me so much hope. I know it's kind of silly, but it helps me remember to appreciate the joy I can take in seemingly insignificant moments."

"Where do you find joy?"

Hermione closed her eyes, remembering. "The smell of books, the color of the sky in autumn, the way a stone floor feels on my bare feet on a warm day, the light way a gentle breeze lifts and plays with my hair. A lot of things." Especially dark, penetrating eyes, flawless white skin, dark silky hair cascading around a stern face, and most of all, the way the face sometimes softened when he looked at her.

She had never struck him as being so appreciative of the things the world around her could do to her senses. Visions of her face glowing with pleasure flashed before his eyes before he pushed them violently to the back of his head.

He had wanted to heal her, to revive the vibrant girl that had retreated, hidden behind the shadows in her face. That was when it came to him, intense and undeniable.

He loved her. Something had awakened inside him and was growing. He couldn't allow himself to be alone with her anymore, to pay any more attention to her than he would another student. As desperately as he wanted to protect her, to hold her close and shield her from the world, he had to do what was best for her. Maybe, years from now, there could be something between them, if she ever felt something for him. Now, he had to put a stop to this before it got out of hand.

He set a plate in front of her, two egg whites and a single slice of whole wheat toast. Sinking into the chair across from her, he began eating in silence.

Hermione was completely unaware of the taste and texture of the substance she mindlessly forced herself to consume.

_I must have said something really stupid. He's not even bothering to talk to me anymore. Probably thinks I'm an idiot. _

Finally, when she had eaten her last bite, Snape spoke.

"I will need to see that your arm is healing before you leave." He stood, and walked over to her, gently pulling the bandage away from her arm. The angry looking cuts from the night before had faded into pink lines. "It seems to be ok. You may want to keep it bandaged for a few days, just to be safe. You should have plenty of time to shower and dress before your first lesson today." He led her to the door, handing her a box of bandages. "Please, take care of yourself." Hermione wondered why there was so much sadness in his eyes. "If it appears that you have not been taking care of yourself in the coming few weeks, I will be forced to speak with Professor Dumbledore. Attempting to care for you on my own, and allowing your presence in my living quarters has been highly inappropriate. "

Hermione's heart sank as the meaning finally reached her. The one person who could see her pain wanted nothing to do with her.


	10. Fantasy

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Hermione was relieved to discover that her dormitory was empty. She pulled Snape's shirt off of her body as quickly as she could, hoping to stop her smell from completely replacing his. She curled her body around the shirt, and let the tears that had been building inside her come. Sobs shook her body until her eyes grew puffy and dry and she was too tired to cry anymore.

A strange calm settled over her as an idea came into her mind. She dug in her trunk for a moment before retrieving the two items she would need. She looked down at the razor sharp blade she had used to leave especially clean edges when cutting her parchment. She flinched when she first broke the skin, but didn't let the overwhelming pain deter her. Her body fought to stop, but her mind pressed on with unfaltering determination. Panic filled her body with a prickling sensation when she looked at the deep gashes covering the length of each forearm.

She was grateful that the daydream charm from Fred and George had been waiting for her in her trunk. She rested her face on Snape's wrinkled white shirt, not bothering herself with thoughts of this gesture's meaning. Oh, how she hoped to be dead before the dream ended.

_It was a cool spring morning as she strode along the lake. No one else was awake yet. A gentle breeze touched her hair and played with the hem of her cotton sundress. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Professor Snape walking toward her, jet black hair gleaming fiercely in the sun. Her heart skipped a beat. He ran his fingers lightly over her hair, smiling down at her with a tenderness she had seldom seen in those onyx eyes. _

"_Walk with me" he breathed. She followed wordlessly, dazed by the sound of his voice. They walked along the water until they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione was surprised when he took her hand and led her down a narrow path where the trees met the water. His smell blew behind him, a crisp October day, filled with warmth. He stopped when they reached a large willow tree, and held branches aside for her as though pulling back a curtain. _

"_I come here to think sometimes."She stepped inside. Sunlight filtered in through the leaves, creating strange patterns on the thick, soft grass covering the ground beneath the tree. Snape lifted off his cloak, spreading it near the trunk and sitting down on it. His dark pants hugged his long, muscular legs enticingly, and the crisp button down shirt he wore revealed strong, perfect shoulders. Sitting beside him, she couldn't help but run her eyes over his slender body. When her gaze reached his face, she was startled to see that his expression mirrored her own. His cool fingers grazed her cheek as he leaned in to plant a single gentle kiss on her lips. He pulled her close, sitting her in the grass between his legs. His hands rested gently on her shoulders as his lips grazed the top of her head, leaving a trail of maddeningly gentle kisses past her ear and down to her neck. Hermione shuddered with delight. She could feel him growing hard against her back, and whispered a single word in a husky voice._

"_Please."_

_She turned to face him, kneeling. He pulled her face to his and kissed her deeply, sending an electric rush through her veins. He ran his hands down her body, his light touch leaving her desperate for more. When his agile fingers reached the hem of her dress, he slowly lifted it over her head. _

_He put his hands on her waist, lowering her to the ground. Hungry eyes devoured every inch of her exposed skin before he straddled her, and leaned down to stare into her eyes. Her hands rushed up to unbutton his shirt, and he shrugged out of it quickly. Shadows from the branches above caressed every inch of his body, and his pale skin glowed in the muted sunlight. She ran delicate fingertips over his firm stomach, reveling in the softness of his skin. God, he was beautiful._

_His lips crushed against her collarbone as his kisses grew more urgent. Hermione's fingers twisted ferociously through his hair as she felt the warmth of his mouth, licking and nibbling her neck and shoulders, letting his mouth graze the soft pink fabric of her bra. She had finished undressing before it occurred to her to start. He touched her breasts lightly before kissing a trail down her body. His strong arms pushed her knees apart and his tongue ran up her thigh, stopping just short of the burning ache the motion had created. He ran his fingertips over her pussy, inhaling her scent. When he exhaled, the breath travelling across her skin caused her to shudder with desire. _

_Hermione's eyes widened with shock as she felt his tongue sliding inside her, exploring every part of her. He let out a low moan and stood up. She opened her mouth to beg him not to stop, but was only able to gasp when she saw his erection straining against his pants. Once he was fully nude, he lowered his body over hers again. She pressed herself closer to him, feeling his hardness, the way his skin was like silk. Her eyes closed as he pushed into her, sending a sharp wave of ecstasy through her body. When they opened again, the world was darkening. _

Reality flooded back.

_Am I dying? _

She clung hard to her fantasy, desperate to keep his body close to hers even though she knew it was imaginary. She would give anything for one more moment with him. She wasn't ready, and it was all slipping away.

There was blackness now, then painful light. She squeezed her eyes shut. There were voices around her, hushed, frantic. She tried to make sense of what she was hearing, but it all blurred together.

Then one of the voices stood out from the others, a black satin ribbon winding through the blurred gray static.

He was there.

Accepting her fate, Hermione sank out of consciousness.


	11. Discovery

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Sorry about the cliffhanger in the last chapter- my evil streak just couldn't resist : )

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The fifth year girls' dormitory was silent. Ginny sighed.

"Hermione?" she called out, hesitantly. Her friend had been acting very strange lately, and hadn't been seen since lunch the day before. Lavender even said she had never made it to bed last night. The trunk at the foot of Hermione's bed was open, contents scattered haphazardly on the floor. Ginny's body flooded with panic. Had someone kidnapped her? She stepped closer, wondering if there was anything missing that would help her understand where her friend had gone, or at least, if she had gone voluntarily.

Then she glanced through the small gap in the bed hangings and saw a very pale foot.

"Hermione, what's-" as she threw the curtains apart, her frantic question was replaced by her own scream. Hermione was curled on the bed wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, naked torso streaked with blood. She ran to the door leading into the common room, flooded with relief at the sight of her friend.

"Harry!" she screamed, "Hermione's hurt, really hurt. Get someone, now!"

She rushed back to her friend, tearing a sheet from a neighboring bed and ripping it violently. She wrapped the other girl's arms as tightly as she could, desperate to stop the bleeding. Each second stretched by like years while the world around her flashed by in a blur.

"Hermione, you're okay. Please be okay." As she pressed against the wounds, trying to keep the blood from spilling out, she caught her first glance of her friend's face.

Hermione's eyes were closed gently, lips curled into a peaceful smile, as though she were just sleeping, as though she were having a pleasant dream. It was a smile that would haunt Ginny for years to come.

The door slammed open, and Snape stood there with fire in his eyes. Wordlessly, he snatched Hermione into his arms and ran with her.

Hermione could feel a bed beneath her.

_Am I alive?_

Silence around her. Light glowing through her eyelids.

_Hospital wing?_

A hesitant peek confirmed her suspicions. A small groan escaped her lips. This was going to be a nightmare.

"How are you feeling?" she recognized the voice instantly, but it carried a tenderness she had only heard in her dream. Her body felt heavy, but she turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Professor." Tears welled up in her eyes. She didn't know how she would live with the knowledge that she had hurt everyone who cared about her. She couldn't stand the thought of the pain she would have caused by succeeding. Hermione's head was spinning, and she didn't know whether to be happy to be alive, or disappointed.

"Hermione, what's happening to you? If Miss Weasley had found you moments later, it would have been too late. Indeed, you only survived because she acted so quickly when she did find you."

She closed her eyes again, sinking into the pillow. Poor Ginny must have been so scared…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Madam Pomfrey, who asked several questions about Hermione's physical state before turning to Professor Snape.

"If Miss Granger feels well enough, you may discuss her options with her, Severus."

He nodded gravely as the woman left, pulling the curtains around them closed.

"My options?" the words climbed out of her mouth clumsily. She didn't like the way this sounded…

"Obviously, you will need a certain level of supervision in the coming months."

"_Months?"_ she gaped.

"You are a bright girl, and have hidden your troubles from those around you far too well. Initially, the supervision will be constant, but as you regain your health, both mental and physical, you will be allowed increasing amounts of freedom."

"Supervision? You mean I'm going to have someone following me around all the time?" Her voice had a frantic edge to it now.

"Miss Granger, your circumstances are not as dire as they may seem. The headmaster feels that you should be given a chance to live as normally as you possibly can, considering the circumstances. You may tell other students what you wish about your absence from classes during the coming days. To provide you with sufficient privacy, Professor Dumbledore has asked that I allow you to sleep in a room he has attached to my quarters and keep an eye on you in between the visits you will receive from Madam Pomfrey.

"You are fortunate to have such caring friends, Miss Granger. Miss Weasley has consented to share a private room with you for the remainder of the year. Mister Weasley and Mister Potter will take turns escorting you in the halls between classes. If any of your behavior is suspect, they will inform me immediately.

"You will meet with me in the evenings so that I may watch the progress of your recovery. I have been asked to handle this matter because I am one of the few people able to easily detect dishonesty on your part. Because the time you spend with me will not go unnoticed, you have been assigned the title of my assistant. Do not believe, Miss Granger, that I intend to allow you to wallow in self pity during the time we spend together. You will participate in the brewing of potions when you are able."

"Professor, you don't have to-"

"I am confident that having an extra set of skilled hands at my disposal during more complicated processes will more than make up for any inconvenience caused by your presence."

"Thank you." The words came out a tearful whisper. Hermione felt tentative appreciation for her survival. She would be able to be near him every day, and even if he clung to a perpetually foul mood, his presence would warm her like gentle sunlight sifting through the willow branches…

He opened the curtain and poked his head out.

"Poppy, is the room ready?"

"Yes, Severus. You may bring her now if you like."

He looked at her. "Are you ready, Hermione?"

She nodded, and tried to rise. A restraining hand rested on her shoulder, and Professor Snape leaned over the bed, sliding one arm behind her shoulders as he pulled the covers away from her legs and slipped his other arm under her knees.

"Be still, child." the silky voice murmured into her hair as he gently lifted her to his chest and carried her to the fireplace in Madam Pomfrey's office. Shifting her frail body so that it was cradled in his left arm, he tossed a pinch of floo powder into the flames, stepping through the moment they glowed green.

Severus Snape held the girl with more care than he had ever imagined feeling. She was much more fragile than he had imagined, and also more precious. No matter the toll this took on him, he would lock his raging passion away deep inside so that he could give her the guidance and support she needed.


	12. Special Tea and Funny Feelings

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sorry about the lack of updates. There should be another one today or tomorrow, finishing what this chapter starts. I decided it would be better as two short chapters than one long one.

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Severus Snape sat in the large armchair by the fireplace in Hermione's new room, the book in his lap all but forgotten. Surrounded by pillows with her body lost in heavy covers, Hermione looked so small, so helpless. Snape lowered his head forward, closing his eyes tight as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The feelings this incident had stirred up in him were merely protective, they had to be. Attraction to a young girl, to his own student, was out of the question. For this attraction to blossom into fierce protectiveness tinged with possessive longing was unthinkable. Only a very sick man could still harbor such desire for a child in this condition. _Hardly a child anymore. _The final thought pushed him past endurance, and he quietly stalked out of the room, returning seconds later with a bottle of Ogden's Old and a glass.

Snape filled the small glass, and, relishing the familiar burn of firewhiskey in his throat, downed it in one gulp. Setting the glass on the table, he reached for his worn copy of _Ada, or Ardor_ and tried to lose himself in the heavy yet graceful prose. Every muscle in his body froze as he heard a slight stirring beneath the covers. Hermione stretched and rolled over, her chaotic curls spilling around her face. Her cheeks held a faint pink tinge as she began to murmur softly…

"Please… can't we stay beneath the willow a bit longer?" The girl was rambling in her sleep. Snape reached over to refill his glass, pausing when he heard a faint moan. Alarmed, he glanced at her again. She wasn't in pain. In fact, her face held a tiny smile and her body writhed very slightly…

Forgetting the glass, Snape grasped the neck of the bottle and lifted it to his lips, drinking deeply.

With a considerable amount of effort, and a considerable amount of firewhiskey, Snape was able to return to his reading. He was almost asleep himself when Madam Pomfrey appeared.

"How has she been resting?" she asked the suddenly alert man.

"Fairly well. She has stirred very little, though she does mumble incoherently at times."

"You should get some sleep yourself, Severus. You know that there's a charm in place that will alert you when the girl is awake."

"Perhaps in a while. I'm not yet tired."

"In that case I have a favor to ask of you. You are aware that Miss Granger will need to supplement her diet with certain potions for a while to provide her with extra nourishment. As I'm sure you can imagine, in her current state, it's quite likely that she'll have trouble digesting these at first. I have many substances that could help her to an extent, but what she really needs…" she gave him a pointed stare.

"Surely you're not suggesting what I think you are, Poppy."

"She'll feel so much better, so much faster, even if you only give it to her once. I know some of the side effects may make supervising her a bit more…"

"Obnoxious? Insane?" Snape tried to protest, but the woman who had tended to his wounds when he was a student himself shot him a gaze brimming with fire, and he sighed.

"Fine. I will make her some tea tonight to drink with her potion. If she manages to behave herself, I'll consider giving her more."

"Best be brewing it now." Madam Pomfrey said brightly, "I'll be waking her to redress her wounds in a moment."

Grumbling, Snape left the room to prepare the intoxicating tea. He thought he heard Hermione asking about him in a sleepy voice as he went, but pushed the enticing thought from his mind.

Madam Pomfrey was gone when he returned. Hermione sat propped up in bed, peering suspiciously into the large mug of nourishing potion she held with both hands. She knew it was probably quite fattening, and cringed when she took a sip. Though she didn't find the taste objectionable, the richness made her stomach churn. She was startled by the sound of Professor Snape clearing his throat from the doorway, not having noticed his silent approach. Gently, he took the potion from her hands and replaced it with a smaller mug.

"This tea will encourage your body to accept nourishment, but has some side effects you may find uncomfortable. Your inhibitions will be lowered and your thoughts will lack direction and clarity. I would not normally allow a student to consume this, but it will help a great deal with your recovery." Hermione nodded and sipped from it. The taste reminded her of mint, but was deeper and earthier. She was surprised by the slight sense of relaxation that washed over her as she drank.

Severus Snape sank into the chair he had silently moved to Hermione's bedside, watching her curious face relax as the tea took effect. When about a third of the drink was gone, Hermione spoke, cheeks flushed.

"I think I could drink the potion now." Snape was tempted by the thought of not having to deal with Hermione becoming giggly and absurd, but knew she would benefit from finishing the tea.

"You will need to finish the tea first to be certain the potion doesn't upset your stomach." Hermione nodded, and started to drink faster. "I would, however, suggest pacing yourself." Snape spoke too late this time. The tea was gone.

"Oops. But I don't think I feel anything from it yet…"

"You will. Drink your potion, but drink it _slowly._"

"Is that firewhiskey?"

"Excuse me?"

"I've always wanted to try firewhiskey!"

"I'm sure someday, Miss Granger, you will."

"Can I drink that?"

"Absolutely not. Have some of your potion. It'll balance the effects of the tea."

"But I like the way I feel! Oh, but the potion smells good too! Maybe I should have more tea _and _have the potion."

"Just drink the potion."

"Will you punish me if I don't?" She sounded like she hoped he would, and Snape found himself entirely derailed by the image this conjured.

"No, of course not." He spat, after an abnormally long pause. "But I can assure you that you will ingest that potion, and if you refuse to do so voluntarily, the process will be most unpleasant."

"I feel strange."

"How so?"

"My body feels… lighter. But not like I'm thin. Like I'm made of something weightless. And I'm kind of horny."

Professor Snape's cheeks were touched by the slightest hint of a blush. He couldn't remember the last time a student had provoked this response from him. It was infuriating.

"Miss Granger, that is a highly inappropriate topic of conversation."

"But you asked how I was feeling strange, and I was just telling you that I-"

"That is quite enough, thank you. Please drink your potion."

"Hey! Is that firewhiskey? Oh, I think I asked you that before. I've always wanted to try that, you know." She edged toward him expectantly.

"I believe you may have said something to that effect before. I can assure you will not be trying it tonight, and if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put this away so you'll stop bothering me about it." He could have sent it away with his wand, but what he really wanted was a moment to gather his thoughts. After closing the door to the room, he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

"Professor!" Hermione called through the door, "What are you doing?"

"Give me a moment, I'll be right there." Eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long night. Sighing, not thinking, he downed the rest of the firewhiskey, willing the reassuring burn to cleanse him of the annoyance he felt, hoping to dull the ache of want that had awakened inside him. Oh, how he loathed himself for feeling that ache.


	13. Temptation

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A passage from Nabokov's _Ada or Ardor_ is quoted in this chapter. If you feel like giving the book a try, you can read it for free online at

www dot ada dot auckland dot ac dot nz

Your brain will get exercise, and you'll hate yourself for being turned on.

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With all the composure he could muster, Severus Snape pushed through the door leading into Hermione's room.

"Where did you go?" she asked, eyes shining. She looked more energetic than she had moments before.

"I had to put something away." His voice sounded dull, conveying exhaustion and annoyance.

"It wasn't your book."

"Excuse me?"

A smile lit over her flushed face as she lifted Ada or Ardor from her lap with one hand, casually. "You never told me you liked him too. Or maybe you were curious about my tastes?"

"You never asked. Nabokov happens to write beautiful prose."

"And so perverted, so erotic." The girl was toying with him. The intoxicating tea, by melting away Hermione's inhibitions, had released an unsettling and powerful force. Her smile was simply demonic.

Snape raised a single eyebrow. "I do not wish to hear about your physical responses to such disturbing material." His words came out with a hint of a slur, though Hermione was too incapacitated to detect it. Maybe that bottle had more left in it than he thought. Emptying it was definitely a mistake. She caressed the book lovingly, enjoying the whispering of the pages as she thumbed through them. Slightly dizzy now, Severus took a few careful steps before settling in his chair.

Hermione held the book open in her lap, long chestnut hair falling in curtain to hide her face. She read to him in soft tones filled with intent.

"At certain moments he stood indecently close behind her, with his burning breath and gliding lips… Van, who had drawn up to her seat as close as he dared, could see down her sleek ensellure as far as her coccyx and inhale the warmth of her entire body. His heart thumping, one miserable hand deep in his trouser pocket—where he kept a purse with half a dozen ten-dollar gold pieces to disguise his state—he bent over her, as she bent over her work. Very lightly he let his parched lips travel down her warm hair and hot nape. It was the sweetest, the strongest, the most mysterious sensation that the boy had ever experienced; nothing in his sordid venery of the past winter could duplicate that downy tenderness, that despair of desire."

He saw himself standing behind Hermione in class, unbearably aware of the way her pale neck peeked out between strands of hair, almost close enough to feel her heat, dying to move closer. He could feel the ache that came every time her scent touched his face, and knew that this perverse longing was the most intense sensation he had ever encountered.

And she was tormenting him.

"That is quite enough, Miss Granger." He reached for the book, but she had lifted it from her lap and now held it at arm's length, out of his reach. His hand moved toward the book, his body following awkwardly into a standing position, leaning over the bed, reaching for the object just beyond his grasp.

Her body twisted beneath him as she struggled to hold it farther away. The intensity of his gaze upon her face stifled the giggles welling up in Hermione's chest. He leaned closer, still reaching, now pressed against her through the covers.

The sensations coursing through Hermione overwhelmed her. The warmth of arousal between her legs had turned to burning need that sent a throbbing heat through all of her body. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them and he devoured her with his glare. She inhaled, expecting the smell that had haunted her dreams, and flinched slightly at the biting scent of firewhiskey. She wondered if his intoxication had unearthed the same cravings as her own.

Her outstretched arm had relaxed, still holding the book just beyond his grasp, and the hand that had been reaching for the book was pressed flat against the headboard.

That was when she felt the astonishing hardness pressing into her thigh. She felt a tinge of desire, wondering whether she was finally encountering the embodiment of her fevered imaginings.

Curious, carefully, she shifted her thigh ever so slightly. He drew in a sharp breath, his face bearing an expression of intense pain. The jolt of arousal that shot through Hermione made her groin ache and her nipples tingle. Her back arched and her hips pressed forward before she was able to conceal her desire. All of the chaos that had been undulating within her during the past few months rushed together in a single direction, pushing her forward with unimaginable force.

Hermione Granger was a bright, sensible girl. She was pure, well behaved. Her carnal knowledge of the male body up to this point consisted of a single, chaste kiss shared with a childhood sweetheart.

So why was her body doing this?

She twisted beneath him, stiff nipples straining against the thin cotton of her nightgown as she pushed the thick book behind her pillow with a teasing smile.

"Do you want it?" she asked, eyes shining.

"Yes" he breathed, drawing closer to her as his hand burrowed beneath the pillow.

"Then take it from me!"

He wanted to tear the thin fabric covering her body to shreds, to nibble and kiss every inch of her breathtaking pale flesh, to taste the warmth between her lips, feel her delicate neck in his mouth…

His erection strained painfully against the fabric of his pants, the desire almost more than he could contain as his fingers dug into the pillow.

Hermione felt a small stab of fear as she took in his feral expression, but it was lost quickly in the thrill of desperate want that enveloped her body at that moment. Unable to restrain herself, she pressed her body closer to his, writhing with need.

Suddenly, his warmth had vanished, and Severus Snape stood with his back to her, staring into the fire.

"You may have the book for tonight if you want it so badly. Now drink your bloody potion and go to sleep. I think we've had quite enough conversation for one night."

Saddened, she drank the potion. It tasted much better to her than it had before, and she finished it quickly. She could feel exhaustion settling in.

"Get some sleep, Hermione." Professor Snape's voice sounded gentler now. "I'll be in to check on you when you wake up." And though he could hear from her breathing that she was on the verge of slumber as he left the room, Severus Snape felt more restless than he had in a very long time. The next few days would be much harder than he had imagined.


	14. Torment

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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She dreamt of him that night, visions more vivid, painful, and delicious than any she could remember having had before.

_Potions class: chop, crush, scrape, stir. Establish a comforting rhythm, get lost in it. Cobalt blue shining fluid thickens to an opaque canary yellow. Clockwise stirring ignites a glowing sunset orange hue. Gentle, consistent heat will result in an amber hue, and proper cooling will produce a clear, hard solid. _

_Hermione is feeding the flames beneath her cauldron now, lowering it until the fire is choked back and the metal glows red in the smoldering embers. The viscous fluid begins to coagulate, she smushes the hard lumps, letting them break up._

"_Miss Granger!" the voice is thick and sharp in her ear, his hot breath leaving goose bumps on her neck._

_Defiant, staring straight ahead as he chastises her, she continues to slosh the lumpy mess and it dries and hardens, sticking in clumps to the side of the cauldron, burnt saffron. It has an enticing butterscotch aroma._

_He had stood silently behind her, watching intently._

"_Class dismissed" spoken abruptly, "Except for Miss Granger."_

"_It's not wrong." She said, not turning to face him in the empty room._

"_What?"_

"_It's not wrong."_

"_Stupid girl, you shouldn't have showed them. You should never show them." Ebony eyes bore into hers, and her legs feel weak_

"_I will have to discipline you, so you never forget again." Cold voice drips with loathing, but she can still sense his arousal. _

_Fingers twisting in her hair push her forward until she's bent over the table while his other arm reaches down to jerk her robe up, and her breath hitches as the arm wraps around her body. Heat floods her cheeks as an agile hand easily unbuttons her jeans, pressing against her body to pull down the zipper. Another rough tug and her pants are around her ankles, lacy boyshorts the only barrier left between her ass and his starving eyes. His hard slap stings through the thin fabric. Brown eyes flecked with green widen in surprise. The second impact is even harder, and her body cringes away from the pain even as the excitement electrifies her core. The moan escaping her lips drives him to spank her harder, and she finds an odd peace in the sensation. _

_For a moment, he pauses. Hermione's eyes are closed as her face rests on the cool table, torn between ecstasy and despair. Her body squirms as a tongue slides up her thigh, teasing the skin at the edge of her panties._

"_please!" she moans, unable to stay silent, and she is rewarded with the sound of fabric being ripped away from her body. His tongue plunges between her swollen lips, and the intensity of the feeling creates brightness behind her closed eyelids. As he begins to finger her, his tongue drifts away and she can sense that he is standing now. Suddenly the fingers are gone and she feels the sharp sting of his palm on her bare behind. His cool fingers trace lightly over the blushing welts on her creamy flesh and he shudders with desire. _

_He presses his cock between her legs, the overwhelming hardness causing her body to grind against his. A sharp slap to her thigh causes her to become still as his tip slides over her opening. A new kind of pain shoots through her body as he pushes inside. She can feel from the tension in his body that it's hard for him to enter so slowly, and before she realizes what's happening he thrusts deeply into her. All the air in her body rushes out through her lips and the pleasure is overwhelming. He fucks her hard, and she can't tell whether the tears filling her eyes are caused by pleasure or pain._

Severus sat in his chair by the bed, watching a flushed Hermione struggle against the sheets that entangled her. He wondered if he should wake her. He couldn't tell whether she was having a nightmare or… something else. It was early afternoon now, but she needed the extra rest to heal.

The previous night had been a disaster. How could he have let things go so far? What kind of man could be aroused by the delusions of a sick and intoxicated young woman?

The fireplace glowed with life as Madam Pomfrey emerged from the flames.

"How is she this morning, Severus?"

"She has been sleeping since last night."

"Her color is better. It looks like that tea worked wonders."

"I would hope so, as I have no intention of allowing her to consume it again while under my supervision."

"Why not? It's helped her tremendously already, but a few more doses would help her feel like herself again much faster and maybe she won't fall so far behind in classes…"

"Her behavior last night was simply inexcusable. She tormented me like a spoiled child."

"What could she possibly have done that was so terrible?"

"She took my novel!" his face reddened as he realized how childish he sounded. Madam Pomfrey pressed her lips together tightly, and he suspected she was holding back laughter.

"You have no idea how obnoxious the girl can be!" he let out a defeated sigh. "Can't someone else handle this?"

Her face grew serious. "Hermione is a danger to herself right now. You know how smart she is, and that only makes things worse. You may not be fond of her, but she needs to be watched by someone with your attention to detail."

Snape felt tired and irritable. He had spent the night tossing and turning, haunted by fantasies of the young and troubled girl. The remnants of last night's firewhiskey created a haze behind his eyes, making his head ache slightly. Relenting, he sighed. "When does she need her next dose?"

"Tonight. After that she should be well enough to move to taking it every other night."

This was getting complicated.

"Poppy, can you stay with her for a while? I have to discuss something with the headmaster."

"Certainly, Severus."

He acknowledged her response with a silent nod and vanished in the flames.


	15. Maddening

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I'm not completely sure how I'm going to have things play out, so please let me know what you think of the plot so far and if you have any suggestions, they would be appreciated!

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As Dumbledore's office started to take shape before him, Snape wasn't surprised to see the older man sitting pensively in one of the chairs near the fire, as if expecting his visit.

"Ah, Severus" he greeted warmly, "I thought you might be stopping in for a visit soon."

"And here I am."

"I just had some tea brought up. I thought you might like to join me for breakfast." He gestured to a large assortment of food on the table between the two chairs near the hearth. "Please, sit down and tell me what's troubling you."

Snape sat, trying to ignore the way his stomach churned each time he inhaled the warm aroma of the breakfast beside him. Oh, how he loathed firewhiskey at this moment. As he reached for the steaming mug of tea Albus had placed before him, he noticed the small vial beside it, with the unmistakable shimmer of a sobering potion. Downing the fluid quickly, he felt his body relax. The headmaster watched him thoughtfully as, after a few minutes, he began to eat.

"So, tell me" Dumbledore said cheerfully, "how are you enjoying the company of Miss Granger?" He looked highly amused as Snape's features shifted into a stern pout.

"I don't think 'enjoying' would describe the situation appropriately. I'm sure you can guess what kind of tea Poppy is insisting the girl drink with her nourishing potions."

"Severus, I can guess what she'd insist upon because she is correct in doing so."

"Her behavior is maddening!" Snape flew to his feet and started to pace before the fire. "I can't imagine how I'll tolerate her presence any longer. Please, can't someone else handle this?"

"How do you think Hermione would feel about that?"

"I don't know if I can do this, Albus."

"You are the only one who can." The fierce confidence behind those startling blue eyes deflated the anger that had been blossoming in Snape's veins. Arguing was impossible.

"This is difficult for me in ways I cannot explain."

"I imagined it might be. I have every confidence that you will do the right thing."

Violently, he threw the dust into the fire. As Severus Snape stormed out of the office, he felt those eyes still on him, staining his soul with guilt.

Hermione was sitting up in bed when Professor Snape returned, quietly flipping through a Transfiguration textbook. She glanced up at him, then, reddening, returned to her book, doing her best to feign interest in the tiny words that swam on the page. Madam Pomfrey, who had been sitting quietly by the bed, smiled at him before departing. He perched gingerly on the edge of his chair, leaning forward to rest his face in his hands, and watched her for a moment before speaking.

"How are you feeling today, Miss Granger?"

"Much better, sir." Her voice was quiet and slightly strained, as though she was trying to fight back emotion. "In fact, I don't think I'll be needing it again." Her eyes were still on the pages, but her cheeks reddened.

"I'd like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was highly inappropriate and I can assure you it will not happen again."

He heard a derisive snort, and when he looked into her face he was met with the furious intensity of her gaze. "You're not the one who should be apologizing." Her heart sank a little as she realized he had just promised not to touch her that way again…

"Please, don't feel bad about what happened. It won't be that way tonight, because you will have a better understanding of how your mind is being affected. "

"Tonight?" Hermione's voice had a frantic edge. "I have to take it again tonight? Can't you have Ginny babysit me while I'm on it so I don't have to worry about making such a complete and utter ass of myself?"

"I'm afraid asking that of Miss Weasley would be highly inappropriate. Until you have demonstrated emotional stability, you need to be under the care of an adult."

Hermione didn't say anything, but curled up around her pillow facing away from him. Snape settled into his chair, knowing he would have to be patient if he hoped the girl would confide in him.

"May I ask you something, Hermione?" His voice was gentle and carried a small hint of the ache that consumed him. After a long pause in which she offered no response, he continued. "Why did you try to end your life?"

"Why did I fail?" she muttered, still not facing him.

"What is causing you so much pain?"

"I don't know" her voice was quieter still, and he knew that she was having trouble containing the emotion brimming beneath her surface.

"I know I've always been hard on you. It was easy to imagine that someone as composed as you were could shake off criticism as easily as you seemed to. I want you to know that I did not mean to hurt you, and I hope you may eventually choose to confide in me."

"No, it's okay." Her voice was tighter, and she held her knees to her chest. He wondered if she might be crying. Silently, he moved his chair closer to her bed.

"Have I said something to offend you?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"No. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"There's a lot more to you than meets the eye, Miss Granger."

"And all it does is eat me alive." He could hear tears in her voice. Perching gingerly on the edge of the bed, he allowed himself to stroke her hair gently while she cried.

His touch felt wonderful. Her body relaxed as she got lost in the tenderness of the sensation, and as the tears slowed, she drifted off to sleep.


	16. Clean

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The steam was so thick it was hard to see. Severus could feel the warmth curling around his body as he stepped into the shower. The almost uncomfortably hot water felt good on his aching muscles, and he closed his eyes and stood very still for a moment. He had left the room moments after Hermione drifted off, hoping to clean up and clear his head before she awakened once more. He tried to ignore the memory of her touch and the sensations it could provoke, but, despite his best efforts, felt himself growing hard.

_I will not succumb to this perversion. _The thought was a command more than a statement, and he struggled to ignore his aching need.

As he covered his body with pleasantly tingling lather (he preferred to make his own soap as he found it far nicer than any he could buy), he felt the strange tug in his chest that indicated Hermione had awakened. Sighing, he decided that she would be fine for a few minutes, and finished washing. The gentle tug, which had subsided, resumed with a bit more urgency as he rinsed his pale body, indicating that, for some reason, she was in need of attention.

He rinsed quickly before wrapping a towel around his torso and moving toward his room to grab a robe. The tug, which had grown stronger with each passing moment, was making him uneasy, though he wondered what kind of harm could possibly befall Hermione in a chamber so carefully emptied of all potentially dangerous objects.

His answer came when he stepped into his hallway and noticed that the recently added door to the room in which the girl slept was slightly ajar. Snape cursed under his breath. Since Hermione's wand had been temporarily confiscated for her own safety, only a few simple spells sealed the locked door separating her room from his personal quarters.

For an underage wizard to have such a firm command of wandless magic was simply unheard of. Even with the proper time and motivation, Severus himself might have had some amount of difficulty accomplishing the escape Hermione had made in mere minutes.

Clutching the haphazardly draped towel in one white knuckled fist, Snape swept silently and purposefully through his quarters in search of the missing witch. He found her sitting on the cold stone floor of his kitchen. Chestnut hair cascaded over flawless ivory shoulders. Before a full second had passed, his mind was flooded with understanding.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't do that while under my supervision, Hermione." He said in a calm voice, face carefully arranged into an expression of indifference. Gasping, she turned to look at him and her cheeks flooded with pink. The knife she had been holding slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor.

He looked like a god, dripping wet and still flushed from the hot water. Hermione's mind went entirely blank for a moment as her eyes took in the lean, muscular shoulders, the way his chest hair all seemed to meet at a single point. She followed the sparse line starting at that point to his navel, where the trail darkened, wishing she could trace it with her fingers to its end, feel the heat of his lightly toned stomach as her hand drifted lower and lower...

She gaped at him for a moment, her suddenly clumsy fingers fumbling before her grip on the knife failed her completely. Catlike, he swooped down and grabbed the knife, tossing into the sink. His eyes were completely glued to hers until his body came too close for them to see each other's faces anymore.

"Come on. We'll get you cleaned up." He spoke without anger, without sadness or accusation. Her body tensed slightly as he slid an arm under her legs and began to lift her, but she didn't protest. Hermione couldn't resist leaning her head on his shoulder as he walked with her, smelling clean and wonderful. When they reached the warm bathroom, she was pleased to discover that his scent permeated the misty air. He sat her on the counter, moving her leg so that her foot rested in the bottom of the sink and running tepid water over the dozen or so fresh wounds. As he started to treat and bandage her leg, he asked nonchalantly,

"So, what was that all about?"

"I don't know. I just had to."

"Why did you have to?"

"I've needed it, badly, since waking up in the Hospital Wing." Her voice carried traces of the defeat she felt at admitting she felt such a strange compulsion and had so little control over it. What he said next took her completely by surprise.

"Next time, tell me."

"Tell you what? That I'm crazy and there's only one thing that can calm me down? How am I supposed to talk about how badly I need something to the person who's here to stop me from doing it?"

"We can find other ways for you to handle those feelings, but keeping them hidden from everyone around you isn't going to help." As he tightened the bandage, he helped her slide off the counter and stand up. The feel of his hand on her lower back as he guided her back to her room made her heart race.

Hermione's eyes widened as Snape stood up from helping her into bed and the towel fell to his ankles. She barely caught a glimpse of what had been waiting beneath before he snatched up the towel and was gone from the room.


	17. Curiouser and Curiouser

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: chapter created under the influence of sleep deprivation, the plague, and cough syrup. If it ends up being terrible let me know and I'll do a complete rewrite and possibly change the direction of the story.

Severus Snape was not used to confusion and racing thoughts, but he was positive she had seen how inappropriately aroused he was by their physical contact. His protective feelings toward Hermione were constantly evolving, becoming stronger and considerably less appropriate by the second. He dressed slowly and purposefully, determined to suppress the humiliation budding in the pit of his stomach. His emotional state as of late had been curious to say the least. He hadn't had such poor self-control since adolescence.

Meanwhile, a small smirk threatened to blossom from the corners of Hermione's lips. Not only had she witnessed something breathtakingly beautiful, she was relatively sure that the arousal she had seen so clearly came from his interactions with her. By the time he returned to her room, calm and composed as if there had never been a problem, Hermione was feeling considerably more confident.

"So," she asked when he entered the room again, "When do I get to take myshower?"

She thought she saw the tiniest flicker of a lapse in his flawless composure.

"I believe Madam Pomfrey's cleaning spells should suffice until you have reached a point where you can be trusted to spend time unsupervised."

"I miss the way it feels." Hermione was recovering quickly, and though her body was still week, her mind had been sharpening more and more, until now she felt like if something interesting didn't happen soon, her head would simply explode. On some level, she realized she was provoking the man who stood before her, but she felt little motivation to stop. Seeing him angry was always somewhat thrilling to her, and it might make for an interesting night.

"If you continue making a genuine effort to take care of yourself, you will have the option of beginning work as my assistant tomorrow. Should you choose to do so, you will join me in my lab in the morning. If Miss Weasley is willing to provide supervision, you will be allowed to take a bath or shower tomorrow evening when we have finished. You will gain a considerable amount of freedom in the coming days as long as you are willing to cooperate with the treatment offered and continue to make progress in your recovery."

"Thanks." Hermione couldn't help but feel a very slight sense of disappointment when the conversation failed to develop into one that might leave her professor feeling very annoyed with her indeed. She desperately craved anything that would break up the monotony, even if it was the sinful beauty of enraging a man she should never have loved to begin with

She thought she caught him starting to smile before he straightened up and offered her a steaming mug she had previously failed to notice in his hands. She recognized the tea immediately, and looked up at him pleadingly.

"Again?" she asked.

"Yes." He said simply, nudging the steaming liquid closer to her.

"Isn't it kind of early in the day for that?"

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger" he continued, appearing oblivious to the way she winced ever so slightly at the formality of his tone, "you have lost a small amount of blood this afternoon, and in your current condition, it would be best to administer your potion as soon as possible to allow your body to heal itself."

She groaned, but accepted the mug. The taste was slightly sharp at first and earthier than she had remembered, but she found herself drinking more and more deeply as the dull ache she had been carrying in the pit of her stomach started to loosen and float away.

Severus couldn't help but enjoy the way the young girl's nose scrunched up on first taste, and watched with amusement as her body recognized the relief the beverage could provide and her physical desire for the fluid grew stronger.

An appealing flush warmed her pale cheeks as she drank the nourishing potion without complaint, setting the glass down loudly on her bedside table before pulling the covers up to her neck and curling up facing away from her Professor.

A handful of minutes dragged by like hours before Snape broke the silence "You know you're not very convincing when you pretend to be asleep, Hermione."

"I'm not pretending!" He could see the side of her cheek tinged an inviting pink with embarrassment.

"Well now that I've so rudely awakened you, would you care to talk?" Humiliated as she was by the obviousness of her attempts to avoid conversation by feigning sleep, Hermione couldn't help but roll over to look at him when she heard what sounded like affectionate warmth in his voice. As usual, his face betrayed nothing.

"Talk about what, Professor?"

"Anything you like, I suppose. I'm rather curious to know why you felt such an urgent need to defile my kitchen knives this afternoon, however."

The responding blush was deeper this time. "It's complicated. I don't think you'd understand."

"Try me."

The girl grew redder still. "I don't think I can even really explain it."

"I suppose you could enlighten me on another subject that's aroused my curiosity as of late."

Hermione looked relieved. "Of course, Professor, anything."

"Sometimes you mutter in your sleep. Most of the things you say are unintelligible, but it seems that you're somewhat obsessed with spending time under a particular tree. Care to enlighten me on what makes the tree so special?"

He could tell immediately that he wasn't going to get an answer.

"Anything but that." Slightly protruding front teeth sank into the pillow of an invitingly plump lower lip.

What Severus Snape did next was very, very wrong.

An intoxicated mind is very pliable, easily succumbing to the gentle explorations of an experienced legilimens. Every mind has its own unique structure, and he was amazed at the complexity of hers. The first memory he saw was of himself, bent over Hermione surrounded by the green light of the sun filtering through leaves. His hair fell beside his face, and his bare torso pressed closer to her body, bringing with it a heat that felt exquisite burning through the gently warm air between them. This was obviously a memory of some dream, but he had never encountered a recollection of an unreal event that held such intricate detail and enticing intensity.

He started to withdraw his focus, to see the details surrounding that moment. He saw Hermione curled around his shirt, covered in blood. He saw the empty daydream potion beside her, realizing with amazement that he was the form her fantasy had taken. A hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach grew and grew as he saw himself pushing her away, the pain she had felt in response, a pain he had never anticipated. He saw her final thoughts as the dream wound down, the regret she felt for having chosen to leave a world that had him in it.

Overwhelmed with feeling, he swiftly withdrew from the universe swirling behind her eyes. Hermione felt a vague sadness at the loss of his presence. In her current state her mind had put up so little resistance that she wasn't entirely aware of what had just transpired between them. He had looked into her eyes and she felt his fascination, that he wanted to know her, to understand. She felt him searching her with his gaze, a stare so intense she wondered if he couldn't see her soul with those penetrating eyes. She had felt understanding exploding into existence inside him, then suddenly he was gone and his face was a mask again. She craved that sense of connection.

"Get some rest, Hermione." He said in a tired voice, rising and tucking the covers up around her neck.

"But I'm not tired" even though her voice was sleepy.

Calmly, he picked up the book that had been peeking out from under her bed, the book they had wrestled over what seemed like so long ago.

"You can read this." A hand quickly brushed across her cheek, barely touching, against the Professor's will. He put the book on the bed beside her and walked quickly out of the room.

He had a lot to think about.


	18. Meanwhile, in Snape's Head

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warning: I still have the plague (bronchitis, but I'm on antibiotics now.) Please let me know what you think of this chapter. It'll be from inside Snape's head, and I'm willing to adjust my portrayal of him if offered good suggestions.

Thanks for all the nice reviews 

_Accio Firewhiskey_

Hermione was asleep moments after I had closed the door and sank to the floor beside it, listening to her steady breathing. I envied her innocence, and couldn't even comprehend the depth of my own gratitude for the fact that she hadn't understood what was taking place in those dreadful invasive moments. How would I live with myself, I wondered, knowing I had invaded the mind of an intoxicated and oblivious young girl? And how could I live with the knowledge that now bore down upon me?

It was natural for me to be the object of her fixation, I'd imagine. After all, everyone else seemed to have let her down when she needed them most. But still… Still, (here I downed another shot, having already lost count), I had reacted strangely to the revelation. In years of teaching, I had been the object of the occasional crush, but never something that felt so deep and powerful. I felt almost undeserving of such pure affection and desire. And the strange arousal I had felt (another shot) when I watched her vivid fantasy, my arousal at something that had never happened, should never happen. It was utterly dizzying.

_Another nice long- hey wait, this bottle is empty! Fuck, I knew I was forgetting something!_

Trudging to the cabinet, this was not a night for wine. I needed something a bit stronger to take the edge off these fantasies, the terrifying delusion that the feelings I had witnessed were deeper than some misplaced fixation, that somehow the girl knew me, and loved me still.

A few bottles of vastly inferior alcohol clinked aside before I saw it. Absinthe, and not the weak muggle variety. I didn't dwell on the ramifications of having vivid visions on such a distorted and unsettling night, instead clutching a glass in my drunken fumbling fingers, and pouring in a generous portion of the subtly glowing green fluid.

To say the taste was bitter would be an understatement. I had meant to dispose of the foul beverage after my experience with it the first time I had consumed it… and the time after that, and well, I wondered if the bottle wasn't bottomless. It had been a gift from Dumbledore years ago, always with that wicked twinkle in his bright blue eyes. I drank deeply, and when I went to pour myself more, found that the bottle had sealed itself. Must have had enough. "Seems to go down faster every time" I mused. I sat abruptly on the thickly carpeted floor, and the visions began.

_The bottle fell to the floor and shattered, green mist rising from within in place of the fluid that should have spilled. From the mist, she appeared. The curves that had emerged as sharp angles, violently quelled by starvation, had softened and filled. She looked different, healthy. The dark circles under her eyes had faded. It was how I imagined she would look given a few months of proper nourishment. She wore the same flimsy nightgown that had tormented me the first night I gave her the tea. I tried to speak, though to this day I don't know what I would have said to this breathtaking apparition, but the words caught in my suddenly dry throat. _

_Hermione-I mean the hallucination- brushed her fingertips lightly over my hair. Past experience had taught me that fighting these visions was a pointless endeavor, so I leaned into the touch, letting my eyes close slightly as bliss washed through my veins. Her hand traveled down my jaw and around my neck. The other snaked behind my head to meet it and she drew me close. I inhaled, shocked to discover that the vision somehow even carried her scent. My erection strained against my robe, and my hips rushed forward as she straddled me. Her breathing grew quicker as I ran my nose and lips over her collarbone and up her neck, enjoying the heat and softness of her body on the delicate skin of my lips. She kissed me deeply, and her taste somehow carried everything I had ever loved about summer. In that moment, I realized that I wanted Hermione Granger more than I had wanted anything else in my life, and cared for her more than I have ever cared for anyone. _

_The agony of the realization was obliterated before it had a chance to fully set in. The Hermione, the vision, whatever sat straddling me in that moment, put a delicate hand on my shoulder and shoved me back roughly, so that I was lying on the floor. She, or it, still straddled me. There was nothing left of my self control. I grabbed the collar of the delicate cotton nightgown with both hands, tearing it down the front to reveal small but perfect breasts, round, perky, firm in the palms of both of my hands. _

_The feeling was exquisite as she shifted on top of me and my hips rushed forward, grinding against her writhing form. My hands travelled down her sides, unencumbered by the torn nightgown whose neck now reached below her navel. I watched, transfixed, as shadows played across her stomach and she began unbuttoning my robes. _

_Perhaps it was a mistake, allowing her to undress me. Perhaps I should have known something was amiss. In that moment I was so drunk on her scent I couldn't begin to comprehend the effects of the Absinthe and Firewhiskey on my mental faculties. _

_I was shocked by the feeling of her naked thighs against mine, even more so by the sensation of bare and silky skin where I would have expected cotton knickers. A tiny cry escaped her lips as I entered her. My fingers dug into her hips, pulling her down into my thrusts. Something primal stirred within me and I found myself rolling on top of her, pushing her knees back and lifting her ankles to my shoulders. I kissed her breasts with unparalleled fervor, ran my tongue along her collarbone and sank my teeth into the faintly glowing alabaster neck. As I tasted the hard metallic tang of her blood I felt her fingers weave into my hair. The sudden pain in my scalp as she pulled fiercely against the ebony strands almost stopped me, but I felt her body tensing and was pushed over the edge myself as the waves of ecstasy shook through her. _

_After a single pure, explosive moment, I collapsed in a heap on the floor, watching Hermione fade back into the night. _


	19. Fucking Succubus

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for all the nice reviews 

Floating in the vast darkness of his mind, Severus felt a slight tug in the direction of reality. Dazed, he groped through his hazy memory in search of an explanation.

_Hermione!_

The crumpled robe draped over his body slid to the floor as he sat bolt upright, suddenly aware. Feeling as though the ocean were crashing through his skull, he collapsed onto the floor again, throwing an arm over his eyes to block the sunlight pouring through the room's high windows. Somewhere, he heard a door click open. Cursing under his breath, he realized he'd failed to lock or ward Hermione's door. He was amazed by the amount of effort expelled in the simple motion of jerking his robe back over his sprawling naked body.

"Professor?" her voice came from the hallway, tentative. "Are you alright?"

"Fucking succubus" he groaned, realizing that the previous night's events were far from a hallucination.

"Excuse me?" Hermione edged closer to him, her voice quiet and tentative. The way she approached reminded him of the way one might approach an adorable wounded animal that could quite possibly lash out if startled.

"Hermione, I need you to go to the bathroom and get me the small purple glass bottle in the back of the cabinet."

She did so quickly, and as he swallowed the thick, bitter liquid, he felt warmth spreading through his limbs. A general revitalizing tonic would not lend him as much strength as the potion designed to treat his current condition, but he was in no state to brew what he needed himself, nor was he about to get Madam Pomfrey involved in this humiliating mess.

He slowly sat up, taking in the girl's wide eyes and shocked expression.

"What happened?"

"Hermione, do you know what a succubus is?"

"We don't learn about those until sixth year, sir. I have read some about them, though." She said, thoughtfully. "Aren't they somewhat similar to the ones in muggle mythology? Except that they seek out and prey on witches or wizards who are particularly sexually frus-"

"Yes, Hermione." Snape interrupted irritably, wishing for once that the girl was a bit less knowledgeable as fresh humiliation blossomed in the pit of his stomach. "Apparently one made it into the castle last night. I'll be having a word with Filch about the issue…" he muttered angrily.

Gathering the robe around his waist and trying to ignore her flushed cheeks and lingering eyes, he walked stiffly to the kitchen, where he drank deeply from a bottle pulled from a particularly high shelf. He rubbed his temples as the pain in his head began to lessen and his thoughts grew clearer.

Snape returned to Hermione, who still stood near the spot where she'd found him, dazed and quite pink.

"I'm terribly sorry. What occurred last night was inexcusable." His dark eyes bored into hers as he spoke, flooding her stomach with the butterflies to which she'd grown so accustomed in the past week.

Banishing the shattered absinthe bottle and the now syrupy liquid that pooled around it, he looked at her and said, "I'd strongly suggest you never try that vile concoction. I can assure you, you will regret it if you do."

"Are you alright now?"

"Physically I'm quite fine. Have you been awake long?"

"No, I just thought I heard you saying something when I woke up. I guess you must have been mumbling in your sleep." The way she reddened made him suspect she had caught the sound of her name among his groggy ramblings. He looked at his watch, then back up at the girl whose long chestnut hair fell around her narrow shoulders. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'd like to clean up a bit before breakfast. It should be up in about fifteen minutes."

Hermione just nodded, wondering why his voice held none of its normal bitter edge when he spoke to her.

Once again, Severus Snape was able to regain his composure before Hermione could be completely sure it had ever been lost. He entered the kitchen, gesturing toward a chair.

"Sit." He said simply, and she did. Moments later, food appeared on the table before them. Putting some eggs and toast on his plate, he looked at her expectantly.

"I'm not hungry." She muttered, turning scarlet.

"Hermione, we have a lot to do today. You're going to eat a reasonable breakfast so hopefully you'll feel up to making yourself useful."

Sighing, she gingerly lifted a single slice of toast and dropped it on her plate. Her professor shot her a dirty look and plopped some scrambled eggs down beside the bread.

"Do I need to get Pomfrey?"

Hermione smirked back at him, raising one eyebrow derisively. "Do I? I'm not sure you've recovered all the way from your little 'incident'. I think you should have proper medical attention." He would have loved to be able to hate her in that moment, but the feeling her smile ignited made it difficult to be stern.

"I will not compromise your health over such a trivial matter." Calling her bluff, he stared her down. A part of him almost wanted her to continue pressing, fascinated by the fire behind her eyes, but a relieved sigh escaped his lips as rolled her eyes and took a tiny defiant bite. The brittle toast crunched unpleasantly between her teeth, bathing her tongue in what felt like mealy sawdust in her mouth. After she swallowed, she yawned her mouth open at him, revealing its emptiness

"Happy?"

"I will be when you finish eating. As much as I'd love to sit at the table and chat all morning, things do need to get done eventually."

Even though Hermione felt hungrier than she had in a while, the thought of eating so much with _him_ of all people sitting across from her made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

She knew he wasn't bluffing. Dreading the dry tickle of the toast on her throat, she poured herself a glass of water and used it to push down a few bites of flaccid, greasy egg.

She glanced up at Severus, expecting receive a contemptuous glare, knowing she ate slowly. His eyes were burning into hers but he didn't say a word. He wore his carefully constructed emotionless mask, unaware of the tiny dent that had settled in between his eyebrows.

Hermione couldn't help but ask herself when he had started to care. She found that the answer was irrelevant.


	20. Glad I Found You

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for all the nice reviews 

It took Hermione almost an hour to finish her breakfast. Severus watched in patient silence, his face never betraying the battle raging within.

She was beautiful, even now, small, frail, and terrified of a slice of toast. Sunlight spilled through the window behind her, making her hair glow bronze. The disgust that had been welling up for feelings he refused to confront surged to the front of his mind. Everything he wanted in that moment was so very, very wrong. He watched the silhouette her jaw as she chewed, the darkness of her neck in the sea of glowing hair.

Finally, swallowing the last of her tea, Hermione stood from the table. Snape rose quickly and met her eyes.

"What now?" she asked.

"Change into something you can work in." He thrust a package across the table. She picked it up, recognizing her parents' handwriting. "It seems that your parents have sent some of your old clothes, so find something that fits. Today we'll be restocking my recently depleted medicine cabinet."

"Why do you know what's in here?" she asked, lifting the package.

"The headmaster has requested that I make a point of knowing which items come into your possession for a while."

He heard a tiny huff as she grabbed the package and retreated to her room.

Hermione smiled as she lifted up an old pair of jeans. They looked so small now. There was no way they would fit. Trepidation and fear pooled in the pit of her stomach as she stepped into them, and as they slid easily over her hips, she felt a glow wash over her.

She had definitely lost weight. Somewhere inside, a tugging, tiny worried voice whined in the back of her head.

It was no match for the elation. She pulled on a black tshirt, then, noticing the way it hung around her body, she traded it for a snug purple top. She pulled her hair into a pair of braids, cursing the twisting wisps that always managed to escape, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and left the room.

"I was beginning to wonder if you weren't having some sort of trouble." His voice was casual but his eyes flickered downward, and for a moment she was sure they were travelling over her body. She wondered if she had lost enough weight that a more feminine shape was emerging.

"Sorry Professor." she murmured, feeling a bit more cheerful at the realization that her body was finally starting to do what she had wanted. She was startled at the hunger in his eyes, but even more so by the sadness.

"Come with me." He led her down a hallway she hadn't noticed before to a small but tidy room whose walls were lined with shelves and cupboards. "This shouldn't take too terribly long, but I will need your full attention as we will be preparing multiple potions simultaneously."

He was wearing a white button down shirt. Hermione silently prayed for the ability to make it through the day without saying or doing anything stupid.

And as always, Snape's mind was working.

He knew she was in a weakened state, and young. She couldn't possibly understand the impact of the things she did to him, the way she wound him tight and teased the tension. Sometimes, he told himself, innocence was much more dangerous than maturity in these situations. She was not yet familiar with the devastating power she wielded.

And yet…

He had seen the inside of her mind. It wasn't the mind of a child. Her feelings for him seemed so pure, so deeply rooted.

Hermione was disappointed to discover that her role in the potion making process would simply be to walk around and stir things. She wondered whether he meant to insult her intelligence but decided that he only doubted her sanity. Somehow, she preferred this. They fell into a quiet rhythm as he chopped and added ingredients and she stood near him, occasionally changing the speed at which something stirred itself.

It was interesting to watch him work, and she found herself paying close attention to which ingredients entered which potion, trying to understand how the different substances interacted. She had learned a considerable amount of muggle chemistry during bored summer afternoons, but none of those rules seemed to apply anymore once a magical ingredient had been added.

The girl's focus was intriguing, as though she were cataloging his every move. She wasn't staring at him like a lovesick child, instead relishing the experience of watching the preparation of such complicated potions. He wanted desperately to peer again into her mind, even after the emotional chaos his first journey had unleashed. It had been so wrong to do it once, anything more would be unforgiveable. Instead, he spoke to her.

"Hermione," his voice came out tentative and soft, a tone that made him feel slightly exposed. "why are you doing this?"

"Because when you added those seed pods it seemed like the boiling point would get lower and-"

"No." He paused for a moment, distracted by the impressively intuitive conclusion she had jumped to, before correcting her. "This." His fingers brushed across the arm she kept bandaged even after it had healed. Her face reddened.

"I don't know." she murmured. His bottomless black eyes were piercing, waiting for more explanation. "because I'm not fucking normal."

His gaze didn't lift.

"I can't stand myself. Everything is so dull around me it's not worth waking up for."

"Hermione, no one knew."

"It's not your fault I'm like this."

"Someone should have realized sooner. It's not healthy to hide that much pain."

"I don't think I can get better." Hermione was near tears now, staring hard at the ground.

"You have to try harder."

"You think I'm not trying?" her cheeks flushed with rage, even as in the pit of her stomach she knew he was right. She hadn't felt any motivation to try harder. Everything drained away her energy…

A substantial silence passed between them before he reminded her of her earlier comment about boiling points and they entered a lengthy and detailed conversation. He found that he actually enjoyed her company.

Lunch was difficult, but the promise of a shower motivated Hermione to eat half of her sandwich and sip on some soup before pushing her plate forward with a determined glare.

The hot water felt exquisite running down her body. Even though her complexion was clearer and her eyes were brighter, Hermione couldn't help but dig her fingernails into the loose skin over her hipbones, clutching at something only she could see. Returning to her room, she saw that a second bed had been added. Ginny sat on it, cross-legged, looking slightly apprehensive.

"Ginny." Hermione was stunned by the realization of everything the younger girl had been through for her. "I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry about…"

"Hermione, it's ok. You don't have to talk to me about anything you don't want to, but I'm here for you." Her voice was calm, but Hermione thought she saw a tear sliding down the redhead's cheek.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way. You weren't supposed to find me." Her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry you had to find me that way." she added, barely above a whisper.

"I'm not." Ginny's voice was firm, her eyes burning with a quiet fire. "But you're never going to do that to yourself again."

Hermione was speechless. She dried her hair slowly before climbing into bed, shuddering at the feel of crisp icy sheets on her bare skin.

"Are you ok?" Ginny's voice had softened. Hermione curled into a ball, trying to fill the emptiness she felt. Finally, she broke the silence, voice tentative and weak.

"Remember the night this summer that you climbed into bed with me?" It felt like that had been years before, though only a few months had passed. Hermione heard the rustling of covers, and felt a weight beside her on the bed as the other girl curled around her. After a moment, the older girl spoke again. "Ginny, what does a succubus do? Do you know? I never did find out."

"Hmm?" her voice was sleepy. "Oh, just kind of drains your magic. Usually go after someone really frustrated. Back to normal in a couple of days. Heard the sex is worth it. They take the form of the thing you desire most, sort of like a boggart does with scaring people."

"Thanks."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad I found you."

"Me too, Ginny." Hermione was surprised to find that the words coming from her mouth weren't entirely dishonest. She let the warmth radiating from the limbs entwined with hers envelop her until she drifted off to sleep.


	21. Not Ron

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for all the nice reviews  I know this is a short chapter, but I reached a good stopping point. I'll work on making them longer in the future!

The sun was just rising when Hermione woke up with her face buried in gleaming scarlet satiny strands. A smile touched her lips as she inhaled the lilac scent of Ginny's shampoo. Her head rested between the tiny buds of the other girl's breasts and their limbs were still tangled together in much the same way they had been the night before. She looked up at the contentment written across Ginny's face and wondered how Ginny managed to be so patient and strong after what she had been through.

Finally, red eyelashes fluttered open. Overcome by a sudden and inexplicable shyness, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to breath in the slow rhythm of sleep, but after a minute, Ginny tilted her head down to whisper.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah" Hermione breathed back, not moving, reluctant to give up the warmth and safety of having another body wrapped around her.

"Can I ask you something you probably really don't want to answer?"

"Ask away." Hermione tried to keep her voice light even though she knew what was coming next.

"Why did you do it, Hermione?" A moment of stunned silence followed the question both girls had known would have to be addressed sooner or later.

"I can't explain. I'm all messed up."

"Was it because of him?"

"What? No!" Hermione tensed up, rushing through her memories in search of some idea of how Ginny knew what had made her want to die.

"He can be a stupid git sometimes, but his heart's in the right place, you know. He really does care about you."

Stupid git? Hermione puzzled for a moment. "Oh, Ginny, no! I promise you, I don't even feel that way about your brother."

"You were a little off all summer, but after that night you went out with the boys it was like you never fully came back. I miss you." She ran her fingertips over Hermione's hair, provoking a slight but confusing blush.

"I'm so sorry. I don't think I would even know where to start trying to explain the way I've acted. I can't even promise I'll be different, because I don't know if I can go back."

"Hermione, what happened that night?"

"Nothing really. I drank more than I should have and had a bit of a close call with a nasty idiot, but that was about all. Oh, and Harry and Ron informed me that I only 'kind of' count as a girl."

"The way they acted on the train must have bothered you."

"Yeah, but I don't think it matters anymore if they find me attractive. I just wanted to be something other than dull and sensible for once in my life. I didn't think any of it would become so impossible to avoid, that wanting to be someone else would creep into every thought."

"You've lost so much weight. I feel like I could still lose you so easily."

"I can't help it." Ginny heard the weight of sadness in the soft voice, and believed her.

"If you didn't think I was talking about Ron, who is it?"

"Ginny, I love someone I shouldn't. Love like I didn't know was possible and it's eating me alive." Hermione didn't notice that Ginny's heartbeat had grown faster. Tiny agile fingertips brushed a wisp back from her face.

"Why shouldn't you love this person?"

"I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone. I can't be feeling this." Panic curled into her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Shh, Hermione, it's ok. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"Thank you. You don't know how much it means." Ginny put a hand under Hermione's chin, tilting her face upward so their eyes met. Her voice burned with intensity when she spoke.

"You're my best friend in the world. I'll do anything for you." Her amber gaze was fierce, and Hermione knew she meant what she said. She drew a breath to reply, reminded by the inviting scent how close and warm the small, firm body was. They were interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door.

"Come in!" The words tumbled out of Hermione's mouth before she had a single thought, making her instantly aware of her current position. The door opened as she sat up, her hip still pressed against Ginny's side. "Professor!" surprised, happy.

Snape's dark eyes looked completely blank for a second, shallow and empty as they darted from the two girls to Ginny's still made bed and back. Before Hermione had even noticed the silence, he spoke in a voice that revealed nothing.

"Miss Weasley, Hermione will have to continue taking her meals with me until she has started to gain more weight. You are welcome to join us for breakfast if you'd care to."

"Um, actually I have some homework to finish that I left in my dormitory. I should be going."

"Very well. Hermione, I expect you in the kitchen in a quarter of an hour. I'll give you two a moment to say goodbye." As the door slid shut, Hermione collapsed on Ginny's chest again.

"Will you stay with me until I have to go eat?" she pleaded, "this feels so nice."

"Of course I will." her fingertips trailed over soft shoulders, stopping suddenly. "Hermione?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"When did he start calling you by your first name?" Though Hermione nuzzled her face against Ginny's collarbone to hide her embarrassment, incriminating heat radiated from her cheeks.

"You love him, don't you?"

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Of course not." And Ginny understood. They were silent for the next few minutes, unmoving except for Ginny's fingers gently playing with Hermione's hair and the tears that crept unseen down freckled cheeks.


	22. You're Going to Get Through This

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Also, Snape fans should check out the Ginny/Snape fic I'm writing.

Ginny rose wordlessly and slipped out of the room, leaving Hermione on the verge of falling back asleep. She was pulled back to awareness by the sharp sound of knuckles rapping on the door.

"Unless you're otherwise engaged, kindly join me for breakfast now."

Hermione's cheeks reddened as she wondered how long she had been drifting in the warm delightful place between sleeping and waking. The edge she heard in Snape's voice had been absent for so long she was slightly shocked by its sudden return. She wondered if she had done something to offend him.

Breakfast was harder than Hermione had expected. When she sat down at the table, she noticed the food already waiting on her plate. Frowning slightly, she shot her professor a questioning look.

"I have spoken with Madam Pomfrey. She agrees that you are ready for the next step in your recovery. From now on you will be consuming reasonable portions." She wondered why his voice sounded cold. Sighing, she pushed a forkful of egg past her lips and began to mash it around with her tongue.

"Miss Granger, I will not have you pushing your food around until lunch. Stop dawdling and eat your breakfast." It was the stern teacher's voice she had heard for so many years. She wondered again why his attitude had changed the way it did. She swallowed the flaccid yellow lump, forcing another bite of egg in to take its place.

The food sat like a brick in her stomach. Professor Snape had finished his breakfast and now sat watching her, occasionally glancing at his watch. _Why can't I just be normal for once? _Hermione asked herself mournfully.

_Dignity. I will not let this beat me. _Eyes fixed on the stony face across the table, Hermione began to eat more quickly, chasing each bite with the habitual sip of tea. After swallowing the last bite, she sat her mug down rather loudly with a satisfied smirk.

Professor Snape seemed unimpressed.

And as quickly as her smile had appeared, it vanished. She could feel the food rising in her throat. Head swimming, she stood and rushed toward the bathroom. The sound of her chair scraping against the tile floor pulled Snape's focus back to the situation at hand. His mind had been wandering most disturbingly all morning.

Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved once her stomach had emptied itself. The relief was quickly tainted by guilt as she stood before the mirror, staring at the slender chalk-white face glistening with sweat. As she instinctively grabbed the sink with both hands, bracing herself and taking a deep breath, she couldn't help but remember the night months ago, when she had stood at a sink in the burrow and lamented the way her jeans clung to her soft hips.

She knew she looked unhealthy, sick, nothing like the woman she had always imagined herself becoming, yet the thought of gaining weight made her head swim and her stomach churn. She let tears slide down her face as she brushed her teeth, rinsing them away before walking out into the hall. She almost cried out in surprise when she opened the bathroom door and discovered Snape waiting for her a few feet down the hall.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong to push you so hard." His voice carried some of the kindness she had come to love during her time with him. "Are you alright? If you'd like to rest for a while, that wouldn't be a problem."

Not wanting him to hear the tremble in her voice, Hermione responded with a curt nod.

"Hermione" her name was almost a murmur on his lips as he took a step closer to her, extending his hand slowly, clearly unsure how to proceed. Her front teeth dug into her lower lip. She was biting so hard he was almost amazed she had failed to draw blood.

And suddenly, uncontrollably, Hermione Granger was sinking to the floor. Air shot in and out of her lungs and she couldn't stop the sobs that shook her narrow frame. Then she was enveloped by the heat of his body as he sat and pulled her into his lap. She knew she shouldn't allow this, that it was made so much more wrong by the kaleidoscopic sensations exploding beneath her skin everywhere their bodies touched, but as the ache she felt began to fade, she couldn't bear to pull away.

And he asked himself, again and again, what he was doing, as he felt the shameful bliss of her weight against him. Her scent, mingling with the sharp sterile mint of mouthwash, floated around him and he couldn't help but inhale, holding that small part of her inside until he felt like his chest might burst. It was painful to see her in pain, more so than he could bring himself to admit. His fingertips tumbled through her hair and his body swayed gently beneath hers. In that moment their thoughts and feelings were perfectly aligned.

They wished this didn't feel so good.

They couldn't imagine anything beyond this moment, couldn't bear to think of it ending, and yet…

They wondered where all of this would lead.

"Hermione," the murmur in her ear, low, soft, unsure, hesitating ever so slightly before continuing. "It's alright. Everything will be fine. You're going to get through this." Even he was shocked by the tenderness of his words. A part of him returned in that instant, and he became more aware of what he was doing.

_I have to stop this. I am the adult. This girl is my student. This is so utterly and completely wrong. _

_I have to control myself so I don't make everything harder for her. _

His sigh was heavy as the thoughts set in. She was amazed by how gracefully he rose with her still in his arms, and her stomach leapt as he started to carry her. She wanted to object, but her racing mind left her too dizzy to speak. It was silly, she knew, to even imagine that his desires might mirror her own, but still the images came again and again.

_Snape throwing her down on his bed._

_His body leaning over hers, the unfathomable depth of his eyes focused on her and her alone._

_Calloused hands running over every inch of exposed skin, rushing up beneath the hem of her nightgown…_

_And those lips. Crushing into hers, the heat of his mouth against her feeding the fire that started between her legs and burned to her very core. _

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him, almost daring to hope. The inky curtain of his hair fell across her face as he leaned forward, and she inhaled his scent, letting it flood every part of her. She heard the rustling of thick covers and felt cool, crisp sheets beneath her. As his body pulled away she was finally able to fully process all of the information around her.

She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed upon realizing he was laying her in her own bed, pulling the covers up around her instead of warming her with his body.

"Hermione, I think you should rest." His voice sounded even more tired than she felt, so she fought the desire to argue.

"Fine." her voice was a resigned sigh.

"Trust me. You'll feel better when you wake."

"I'm not very tired." Before she had even finished her sentence he was summoning a small vial and holding it gently to her lips.

"I promise this will help."

And she drank without objection, enjoying the sweet, almost sticky taste. The hazy warmth that swept through her reminded her very much of the exhausting smoky heat of the Divination classroom. As she felt her eyes closing, a pair of lips brushed across her forehead moments before the door to her room closed and drifted off to sleep.


	23. Star Flowers

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I'm going to experiment with adding some diary entries from Hermione (they'll be in italics like thoughts are). Let me know how it works and if I should do them differently or cut them out.

Also, Snape fans should check out the Ginny/Snape fic I'm writing.

* * *

_Professor Snape wants me to keep a journal, and spend at least fifteen minutes a day writing in it. He said this can be about anything I want, but I don't really know what to say. He was acting strange at breakfast, but then after I got sick he acted even stranger. I don't know why he's being so nice to me. Does he really think I'm that crazy?_

_Well, ten minutes to go. I don't have anything against writing, but having to spend this much time writing about myself seems odd. At least no one will ever read this. He had me put extra enchantments on it so I would feel completely sure of that, even though I believed him when he told me I'm the only one who will be able to see what I write. He said he can't force me to get better and that for this to work he'll have to trust me and believe I'm trying, too. _

_I do want to get better, but I don't know if I can. It's been so hard living like this. They won't even tell me what I weigh. I must have gained a ton of weight from those potions. _

_I saw Harry and Ron today for the first time since I ended up in the hospital wing. I was glad they didn't try to make me talk about my eating or anything like that, but I could still see the way they looked at me and it felt terrible. The funny thing is, they still don't look at me like they look at other girls. All I can see is the worry in their faces, and the conversation felt so forced._

_And I couldn't help but notice, Harry looks at Ginny like _she's _a girl. What am I doing wrong?_

* * *

When Hermione woke up, Snape had been sitting in the armchair by her bed, patiently watching the crackling fire. She noticed the time turner peeking out of his robes and wondered why he would use it just to be by her while she slept. She didn't want to think he was that worried about her, but the only other explanation that she could think of was that he cared about her more than he let on, something she didn't dare to hope.

That was when he had given her the journal. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about writing down what was happening to her. She suspected that seeing the words on paper would force her to face the seriousness of her situation in ways she wasn't ready to handle. Still, she loved the way a book felt in her hands, the smell when she held the open pages to her face, and she couldn't help but run loving fingertips over the dark red leather binding.

It was only natural to feel suspicious when he told her no one else would ever read what she wrote there, but no matter what Harry and Ron wanted to think about Professor Snape, she didn't consider him a liar. She knew he had to lie sometimes, but it was a matter of survival, and not just his own. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, especially when there was so much danger enveloping every moment.

Ginny didn't make it to their room until a few minutes after curfew. Hermione had been hoping to see her sooner, but told herself it was unreasonable to want to occupy every spare moment her best friend had. Still, the previous night had been so nice, so comforting, it made Hermione realize how much she missed the quiet comfort of their relationship.

"How was your day?" she asked, quickly closing her journal and stashing it in the desk that had been put in the large room so the girls would have somewhere to study.

"Fine." Ginny flopped down onto her own bed, pretending not to notice the slight pout clouding Hermione's face. "I was hanging out with Dean. He's a very sweet boy." A tiny wistful sigh escaped, and Hermione wondered what was causing her pain. She wanted to ask about Dean, about what was going on between them, but held her tongue. A moment later, Ginny spoke again.

"How was yours? Are you starting to feel better?"

Familiar guilt washed through Hermione's stomach. "Actually today was kind of rough. They want me to start gaining weight faster so I had to eat a massive breakfast, and it really bothered my stomach. Professor Snape was surprisingly understanding about it, but he poured some potion down my throat and made me spend the day in bed. I'm getting sick of being stuck here, on display all the time." It felt like some small amount of the weight bearing down on her had been lifted. It was nice to be able to talk to someone without worrying about being chastised over feelings she wasn't sure how to control. Ginny just listened patiently, and her face held no trace of the slightly cold edge she had carried when she came in.

"That does sound rough." Ginny agreed. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

Hermione walked over to her bed, wanting to sit beside Ginny, or to ask the other girl to climb under the covers with her, but she couldn't. "Thanks. You've been amazing through all of this. It's nice having someone to talk to."

They both jumped slightly as they heard knocking on their door.

"May I come in?" Snape's voice was cold, dark silk again.

"Sure." Hermione tried to keep the tone of her voice bright and cheerful despite the crumbling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hated when he changed like this, but consoled herself with the thought that he probably just didn't want Ginny spreading rumors that he was, in fact, not that terrifying.

"I've brought you your nourishing potion and your tea." He turned to Ginny, and though his voice was firm, it was not condescending. "Please see that Miss Granger finishes both drinks. She is still not eating as much as Madam Pomfrey would like her to, so the nutrients she gets from the medicine are essential if we want her health to improve."

Ginny nodded, impressed by how civil he was being, pleased that for the first time since she had come to Hogwarts, Professor Snape spoke to her as an equal.

"The door leading to my quarters will be locked at night from now on so that I may have some semblance of privacy, however, if you need anything do not hesitate to ring the doorbell." At this point he gestured to a button Hermione felt positive hadn't been there before. He placed both steaming mugs on Hermione's table and turned to leave, then paused, and spoke over his shoulder. "Professor Dumbledore has added a bathroom, as well. It's right through that door." Hermione was sure the door he pointed to hadn't been there before. "I'm sure you'll find it more than adequate. He must be fond of both of you." He glided silently through the room, and they heard the door click shut.

Hermione picked up her tea and took a tiny sip. Though the taste was actually rather pleasant, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose as she remembered the embarrassment the effects had caused her in the past. Professor Snape had, to her immense relief, rarely spoken of her intoxicated antics, and she had gladly pretended that she couldn't remember her strange behavior in agonizing detail.

"Is it really so bad?" Ginny asked, concern evident in her voice.

"No." Hermione sighed, "But please don't hold it against me if I make a complete and utter ass of myself tonight. It sort of messes me up."

"How so?" the other girl pressed, now sniffing the air curiously. The scent was vaguely familiar, though she couldn't remember why.

"I get a little impulsive, I guess. I get all these bad ideas, but of course they seem like great ideas at the time, and on top of it all, I end up being much too friendly…"

"Fred and George!" Ginny blurted out, eyes widening.

"What?" Hermione spat, utterly baffled.

"I thought that stuff smelled familiar." She said excitedly, crossing the room and taking the mug from Hermione's hands, inhaling the scent deeply before giving it back. "Star flowers! The twins used to make tea out of the petals all the time, and it smelled exactly like that. Turned them into babbling laughing idiots, too. They said if I told mum they'd cut all my hair off while I slept." She pouted at the memory. "I wanted to try it, but they got all high and mighty and said I was too young and that it was expensive and hard to get anyway."

"Really? It seemed like Madam Pomfrey thought the tea was important for helping me get better."

"Fred and George got pretty hungry when they drank it." Ginny replied thoughtfully, "I think sometimes healers use it for stomach conditions, too. It probably helps you keep the potion down and not freak out about it."

Hermione felt better now that she at least knew what she was consuming. She made a mental note to try and find out more about the plant as soon as she had the chance. She grinned as an unusually devious idea took shape in her mind.

"Give me your wand, Ginny."

"What?"

"Well, I thought of a way I won't have to worry about embarrassing myself in front of you tonight. You said you wanted to try it, right?"

"Hermione, no! You have to drink all of it so you can stomach the other potion."

"Don't be silly, Ginny. If we use a replenishing charm, there will be more than enough for you to have some, too."

The redheads eyes widened. "You can do replenishing charms?" she asked, clearly amazed. Charms that complicated were never taught before sixth year, and she remembered watching her brothers try to master a replenishing charm for weeks one summer with little success and frequent explosions. Hermione glowed, clearly flattered by Ginny's awe.

"I wanted to try something really challenging. I never imagined I'd end up using it for something like this… I can't make it bottomless or anything, but we can probably get three or four times as much tea if I'm compatible enough with your wand." Beaming, the younger girl passed her the slender piece of wood.

The air was thick with anticipation as Hermione set the mug down and closed her eyes, focusing on the task at hand. Ginny's wand felt a bit unusual between her fingers, cooler and heavier than her own. After she muttered the incantation, she looked up at Ginny.

"Did it work?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"I don't know. There's only one way to find out."

"You'd better drink some first, Hermione, just in case. If there isn't enough for both of us and I have some, Snape might murder me." She giggled and watched her friend lift the mug to her lips and drink deeply. When she set it back down, its contents were unchanged. Ginny squealed with delight, then clapped a hand to her mouth.

"If you ever, ever tell anyone about the noise I just made," she said, her face so solemn Hermione wondered if she wasn't just the tiniest bit serious, "I'll be greeting you with hexes for the next six months."

Then her face broke into a smile and she took the mug in her hands.

"Cheers!" she tilted her head back and let the warmth slide down her throat. A lightness immediately started to spread through her limbs.


	24. Tea for Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The next few chapters are going to be Ginny heavy and Snape light. You have been warned.

If you're in Snape withdrawal, check out Auburn Burn.

Also, I really appreciate the comments and will start making an effort to respond to them as much as possible.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny passed the tea back and forth, growing more relaxed and amused with every sip.

"I think it's working" Ginny said after a particularly large swallow, flushed and smiling.

Hermione nodded. They must have shared enough tea to fill at least three mugs, and she was feeling even more intoxicated than she had during the times she had consumed tea with Snape. She looked at Ginny with a grave expression, clearly preparing to share some extraordinarily important information.

"Ginny," she said, wide eyed, "I have to pee!" Ginny doubled over, consumed by a fit of giggles, a few strands of fiery hair falling into her tea so that when she straightened up, they hung limply around her face, weighted down by wetness.

"Hey, wait!" Ginny exclaimed, brimming with excitement, "We have a bathroom!"

"Well I would certainly hope so." Hermione adopted a dignified expression, though the ghosts of dimples in her hollow cheeks revealed that her seriousness was entirely artificial.

"Didn't Snape say it was a good one or something?"

"A good what?"

"He said Dumbledore must like us a ton if he gave us a bathroom like that."

"He did!" Hermione was almost bursting with excitement at this point. She jumped up and started walking toward the door.

"Wait!" Ginny cried, stopping her slender friend dead in her tracks.

"What?" Hermione's voice was almost a gasp as she turned to look at the other girl.

"Can I come too? I want to see it!"

"Of course, Ginny! It is _our_ bathroom, after all. The first time we see it should be together." Ginny rose to follow, unable to help the elation bubbling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of a place that would be theirs and theirs alone, even though she knew it was silly to feel that way about something as ordinary as sharing a bathroom. Hermione had stayed in Ginny's room at the Burrow, but that had been born of necessity, when the friendship between them was just starting to spread the first tentative green roots.

Mistaking her moment of silent awe for hesitation, Hermione grabbed her hand and led her to the recently added door. When it opened, they both gasped. The tiled floor was warm beneath their feet, and glowing orbs suspended in the air above them cast a gentle glow reminiscent of moonlight on a very bright night. The dark blue stone counter which held a pair of identical sinks looked like marble Hermione had seen in some muggle houses, but the glittering sliver threads wound through it curled softly around each other, moving slowly like ripples in a tranquil pool.

The first thing to catch both of their attention, however, was the enormous bathtub set in the lightly shimmering dark gray floor. It could comfortably hold at least four people, and the curved faucet in the middle was surrounded by a constellation of knobs. No two were the same, and Hermione wondered all of them did. Ginny had knelt down by the faucet and turned them on, one at a time, inhaling the wonderful aromas that came from each colored liquid. She discovered, much to her delight, that one knob caused purple bubbles to pour out. Hearing a dull thunk, she glanced over her shoulder to see Hermione clumsily falling onto the toilet, pink panties around her ankles, the flowing skirt of her nightgown haphazardly pulled up over her lap.

"Are you peeing?" Ginny could hardly contain her shock.

"I told you I had to go, and you went and turned on the water over and over. What the bloody hell did you expect?" The gauzy curtains she had failed to pull shut hung on either side of her. Ginny's ears burned with embarrassment at Hermione's lack of modesty. She felt a twinge of guilt as she stole a glance at her best friend's exposed legs, and a pang of sadness when she saw how fragile the slender calves looked.

She sighed as Hermione stood, letting the skirt fall around her again.

"What's wrong?" the older girl asked, walking over to the sink, enjoying the warm water on her hands and the delightful feel of foamy pink soap between her fingers.

"You're so thin. I know you can't help it, but sometimes I just want to shake you and yell at you until you eat a fucking sandwich."

Hermione looked at her, surprised. "Are you being sarcastic or something?"

"What? No. It's just the first time I saw your legs in a long time, and they look like they're about to snap in half." Ginny didn't mean to be so blunt, but she found herself unable to arrange her words more gracefully.

"Haven't I gained weight? With all of the potions they're shoving down my throat and everything?"

"Almost none." Ginny sighed. She had known her friend was sick, but she had never let herself fully understand how distorted Hermione's view of herself had become. "And that reminds me. You still need to drink that nourishing potion Snape gave you."

"Professor Snape." The correction was automatic.

"I'm surprised you don't call him Severus by now." Ginny teased, ignoring the hollow feeling her words left in her stomach.

"Ginny!" Hermione sounded scandalized. "I may be having some… decidedly unusual feelings right now, but he's my professor, not my boyfriend."

"I'm not daft, you know. I've seen the way he looks at you. How long has it been going on?" Still, Ginny felt a tiny flicker of hope deep inside, a longing she wished she could extinguish.

"Nothing is going on," a wistful sigh escaped her lips before she continued, "except maybe me making a complete idiot of myself at every possible opportunity."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Don't think you're going to get out of drinking that potion. Not on my watch."

"But Ginny…" Her pout was hard to resist, but the redhead stood her ground, not allowing her face to betray the wild swarm of butterflies flitting through her stomach. "Don't you want to try out the bathtub? I haven't had a good soak in ages, and it's even big enough for both of us."

"After you drink the potion." Hermione's insides ached with hunger, and she wasn't sure why she was putting up so much resistance. As she gave it a bit more thought, it occurred to her that she didn't want to get her friend in trouble, especially with a man with a temper like Professor Snape's.

"Why can't I just drink it in the bath? We could even bring the tea, too, if you wanted more. Just to see how well the enchantment worked, of course."

"I guess so. But I don't have a swimsuit or anything."

"Don't be silly. We're both girls, and we changed in front of each other all the time when we shared a room. This isn't any different." Ginny supposed it wasn't, but had expected Hermione to be a bit more reserved.

"That's true." she conceded. "Want to run the bath while I go get your potion?" Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey had warned her that she would have to be very careful when she was the one watching Hermione eat, that people suffering from eating disorders often had trouble being honest about what they consumed, even when trying to recover. She knew that if given the chance, her friend might have trouble resisting the urge to tamper with her drink.

Hermione didn't object. Actually, she had been dying to play with the faucet herself. She sat with her feet dangling in the tub, unable to resist adding a little of each kind of water to the mixture. The small pool was nearly full by the time Ginny returned, carrying both mugs.

"What took you so long?" She could tell from the light flush that had returned to freckled cheeks that more of the tea had been consumed. "You didn't kill the star flower without me, did you?"

"Of course not, silly! I had a little, but it's still refilling. When do you get time to teach yourself this stuff, anyway?"

"I have trouble sleeping sometimes." She didn't admit this to many people, but she knew Ginny wouldn't blow things out of proportion. "If you weren't just guzzling tea in there, what took you so long?"

"I, er…" it was so cute when those little ears turned red. "I noticed your potion got cold, and I thought it would taste better if I warmed it back up for you, so I tried to use a heating charm and kind of… well, missed. I might have scorched the table a little." her nervous giggles were contagious. Setting both mugs down next to the tub, Ginny undressed with her back turned before sliding into the turquoise water. Normally, she liked her body, but if Hermione considered herself fat, Ginny thought she must look pretty flabby to her.

Hermione still sat perched on the edge of the tub, watching.

"I wish I could have a body like yours." Hermione sighed.

"Really?" Ginny sounded astonished.

"Yes. I mean, you're so thin, but in a good way, and I know sometimes my body looks a little gross because I lost the weight so fast or something. I mean, you still have curves, and… breasts." Hermione's blush deepened, but she drank deeply from the tea and continued. "The soft places on you still look sort of firm, instead of flabby like the ones on me. And you don't have any fat where it doesn't belong. It's like when I finally started to develop, not only was I pretty much the last girl in my year it happened to, everything came in wonky, like my body was the reflection in a funhouse mirror. Even though I got rid of a lot of the jiggly bits, it still looks really weird."

"Hermione," Ginny's voice was pained, and had she not been naked and soaking wet, she would have enveloped the girl in her arms, "you have no idea how beautiful you are, even now, when even your skin looks paper thin."

"You think I actually looked better when I was fat?" Ginny's slinky body slid through the water, honey brown eyes burning with intensity.

"Hermione, you were _never _fat." She stood, magenta bubbles pooled around her waist, and took her friend's face firmly in her warm hands. "It's normal to feel a little weird when you're growing into yourself, but you have to remember that no one else on the planet judges you as harshly as you judge yourself. You have to talk to someone when you have those thoughts. You know I'm here for you, but I'll be happy no matter who you go to, as long as you stop letting it all bottle up inside." Hermione was plagued by a swarm of butterflies, not entirely sure why. The stuff Ginny was saying actually made a lot of sense. Finally, she found words that could almost touch on how she felt.

"When did you learn to read minds?" she asked, not pulling away from the small hands cradling her face.

"You're not as unusual as you might think." Ginny smiled, before adding, "At least when it comes to how you feel about your body. You're still absolutely mental for studying as much as you do." They shared a tentative laugh, though it was quieted slightly by the tension building between them. "I think the only difference is that I've had my mum pounding reason into my head since the day she took me to buy my first bra. She's pretty amazing with this stuff, even though she says it was never this complicated with the boys." Before she could help it, she leaned in and let her lips graze Hermione's forehead. The kiss was short, and what passed between them in that moment was an understanding deeper than that shared by most friends, but in that moment Ginny's mind far away from the torturous lust she battled with almost every time the two were together.

"Ginny," Hermione's voice was quiet, and her eyes were damp with tears she hoped would be invisible in the soft light. "I can't even begin to imagine how I would get through this without you. I don't think you'll even ever know how much you help me. It's more than I can put into words." Her body was buzzing with the sensations awakened by the closeness of their bodies, and intensified by her intoxication. Even though her thoughts tumbled and twisted in unusual directions, in a way she felt more lucid than she had since summer.

"I can imagine how hard all of this has to be for you, but you have to keep fighting. Please, Hermione, fight as hard as you can, and never stop. You deserve to be as strong on the outside as you are inside."

"How can you call me strong when I can barely face the sustenance I need to survive?"

"Just like being brave isn't being fearless, being strong isn't never having to fight. I know you're strong because I see how hard you're trying to get better."

Hermione smiled, even though she felt a tiny twinge of guilt, knowing that a part of her still fought to stay sick. "Thanks." She couldn't think of anything else to say. Words had a habit of falling short of their intended meaning.

"So, are you going to sit on the edge of the tub all night? I thought you said you wanted a bath."

"Promise you won't freak out when you see my body."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Ginny's expression was grave.

"Stick a needle in your eye?" Hermione giggled, trying to dissipate the moment's intensity.

"Eww!" Ginny squealed.

Feeling more at ease, Hermione stood, clumsily jerking her panties down and slinging them a few feet away with a small flail of her ankle. Ginny struggled to hide the shock on her face as the nightgown landed on the tiles in a crumpled heap. As the older girl slid into the water, she tried not to look at the ribs that cast tiny shadows on ghost pale skin.

"Mmmm" Hermione hummed appreciatively, enjoying the warmth that so often escaped her.

"Now drink your potion." Ginny's voice was stubborn, though the corner of her mouth jerked up in a tiny smirk.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she took the first drink of the tepid, viscous fluid, but thought about everything her friend had said, and about how wonderful and healthy Ginny looked, and set about the task at hand.


	25. Nourishment

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The nourishing potion was decidedly less appealing cold, but Hermione didn't want to remind Ginny of her tea-induced table burning incident, so she continued to drink it.

"So, what were you up to with Dean earlier?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Nothing much really, just talking."

"What were you talking about that was so fascinating you didn't make curfew?"

"Things…" Actually, Hermione had been one of the main topics of conversation. Specifically, they had discussed Ginny's feelings toward Hermione. Dean had shared a closely guarded secret with her about a very confusing incident with Seamus over the summer, but she wasn't about to get into any of that right now.

"Has he kissed you yet?"

"What? No! I don't… I don't think he feels that way about me." Ginny finished lamely.

"What makes you so sure? How many girls have you seen him having long, involved talks with? Do you like him back?"

"The problem is that I don't think he likes me like that at all." Ginny lied, marveling at her friend's sudden uncanny ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions imaginable. Actually, Dean had asked her out on numerous occasions, though he knew her heart was somewhere else. In truth, she thought his was, too, but he wasn't ready to admit it to himself.

As they talked, Hermione found the potion easier and easier to stomach. It actually wasn't half bad if she didn't think about it. After the last swallow, she drank deeply from the tea, and passed it to Ginny.

"Looks like the tea is finally starting to run out." she commented as she handed the mug to the other girl. "You finish it, Gin, I think I've had enough." She could feel the warm water flowing around her, and loved the scent of the steam wafting up around them. Ginny drained the cups remaining contents quickly, setting it down on the floor before leaning her head back against the rim of the tub, letting her eyes close as a smile played on her lips.

"This feels nice." she said, quietly.

Hermione grabbed the bar of soap that had been sitting in a dish near the faucet and stood so that the water only reached her thighs, running her hands over her body leaving a tiny slippery film. Ginny watched in awe, knowing this image would haunt her dreams relentlessly for months. Hermione's glistening pale skin shone in the pale light almost as if it had a glow of its own. Her ribs threw a haunting shadow over a concave stomach, yet even though she looked light enough to be broken by the bathwater swirling around her, she was beautiful.

Ginny hated herself for being turned on. She knew she couldn't help the feelings she had for her best friend; she had spent years trying to stunt the growth of this intoxicating ivy, but now it had wound its way from her heart through her veins and into every pore of her body. She ached to reach out and touch Hermione, to run fingertips over those sharp cheeks, let her touch rain down the slender neck and slip over every surface until she reached the end of the other girl's toes. Then her lips and tongue would follow the same path back up.

"I know." Hermione said, voice low with shame, "I look terrible."

"Actually," Ginny confessed, "I was just thinking about how even though you've lost too much weight, you're still so pretty."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Thank you!" Hermione beamed, moving closer through the steam that gathered like fog over the water. "Ginny?" Her voice was tentative.

"Yeah?"

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Sure, what?"

"Wash my back?" Hermione wasn't sure why she wanted to feel the small hands on her skin, or how she had found the courage to make such a strange request. The girls she hung out with during summers with her parents had done it for each other all the time, setting down a toothbrush to reach into her shower and grab the bar of soap, and it had meant nothing. Tonight, in the soft moonlike glow, things felt so different than they ever had before. She decided to attribute these mysterious sensations to the tea rather than giving them more consideration. After all, what was harmless fun between friends?

"Sure." Ginny's voice was casual but the color in her warm cheeks deepened slightly, and the pinkness blossoming just above the space between her breasts crept up toward her shoulders. Their hands met in a gentle caress as the soap passed between them, and a jolt of electricity rushed through Ginny's body as Hermione settled in between her legs, facing away and leaning forward slightly to expose the curve of her spine.

Ginny wanted to throw her arms around her, to kiss her over and over and tell her everything would be alright, to beg her to start eating, really eating, to beg her to stop dying. Instead she cupped sharp elbows, running her palms up arms and over protruding shoulder blades, tracing the fascinating outlines of every shadow. As much as she hated how frail and tiny Hermione's body had become, the love she felt for the girl inside burned deeper and with more intensity than it ever had. She hoped the growing heat between her legs would go unnoticed.

"Ohhh, that's wonderful." Hermione's words were almost a sigh as she leaned back, tilting her head so that it rested on Ginny's shoulder. "Do you want me to wash yours?"

Ginny allowed herself an instant before replying, feeling her erect nipples pressed against the other girl's body, the way skin slid against soapy skin each time she inhaled, and the delicious scent that belonged to Hermione and no one else. Finally, she slid out from behind her friend so that their eyes could meet, and forced a smile.

"No thanks. I'd better wash up and get out. Look," she said, holding up one hand, "my fingers are getting all shriveled up!" Every cell in her body screamed out in protest as she denied her tongue the flavor of the most desired and forbidden fruit, but she stood her ground, sliding the soap quickly over her skin before rinsing off and rising to leave. _Not tonight, _she told the part of her that cried out in anger as she pulled herself farther away, _not like this._

"Know what?" Hermione asked, slight shock in her voice.

"Hmm?" She hoped the tiny jolt of fear she felt hadn't escaped into her voice as she paused and turned to face the other girl.

"I think I'm hungry."

Ginny tried to avoid sounding too enthusiastic. "Oh my god, I'm starving!" she exclaimed, eyes widening.

"To the kitchen!" Hermione cried, and they were scrambling out of the tub and drying off with unnaturally soft and fluffy towels. They clamored into the bedroom, pulling robes over their heads. They only paused when they reached the locked door leading to the rest of the castle.

"Hey!" Ginny yelled.

"No problem, where's your wand?"

"Hell no, you'll put your eye out!"

"But Ginny," she whined, "I'm _so _hungry!"

"Make the greasy bat let us out."

"He's not greasy!"

"Whatever. Tell him we need some bloody nourishment!" It didn't occur to either of them that hours had crept by and it had grown late.

"He has a kitchen. He can just give us something."

At that very moment, Professor Snape was sitting in his study with a book in his lap and a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. He looked up when he heard the doorbell chiming repeatedly. He hadn't felt any indication that Hermione was in danger, so he wondered why the girls would be franticly disturbing him at such a late hour. Muttering obscenities he scrambled toward the door, taking a short moment to flatten his robes with the palms of his hands and compose his facial expression so that he would appear indifferent.

"Snape, we're _so_ hungry!" Ginny exclaimed, almost falling through the door when he opened it.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione barked at her, then turned to look at him. "Do you have any food?" He raised an eyebrow and her face turned scarlet.

"And what, may I ask, are the two of you doing awake at this hour?"

Both girls suddenly looked very sheepish, standing in the doorway with dripping hair. For some unfathomable reason, they wore their school robes, though the damp patches clinging to their bodies made it obvious they were naked underneath.

"We… we were taking a bath, you see, because our new bathroom is so lovely and whatnot." At this point Ginny paused to flash him what she imagined was a winning smile. "Well, time got away from us, and Hermione mentioned that she was feeling hungry, and we thought, well, it's so good that her appetite is maybe starting to get better…"

"Did she drink her potion?" His voice was careful, though still held a stern edge.

"All of it!" Hermione exclaimed, gesturing emphatically.

"I see." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to regain his thoughts. "Very well," he sighed, "I'll see what I can find."

After an hour or so of pestering their Professor while he made them surprisingly delicious French toast. Ginny and Hermione pulled the robes over their heads and fell into Hermione's bed, a tangle of bare limbs, instantly asleep.

Meanwhile, Snape settled in for what he knew would be yet another sleepless night.


	26. Contemplation

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Ginny raised her fist to beat violently on the door to Dumbledore's office, stopping when the Gargoyle guarding the staircase leapt aside as though she had an appointment.

"_How does he do that?" _she wondered as she entered the room to find him waiting patiently with a pot of tea and two mugs.

"Ah, Miss Weasley. Come, have some tea and tell me what's on your mind." Ginny had the strangest suspicion he already knew why she had come to see him, but she took a seat across from him and took the warm mug in her hands, enjoying the steam that drifted up around her face, caressing her skin like silk soft fingertips.

"Sir, I don't know exactly how to put this…" she hedged.

"I often find that putting things bluntly is a much better solution than trying to tiptoe around them."

"I don't think I should be sharing a room with Hermione."

"You have been a great help to your friend, Ginny. If you no longer wish to stay with her, we can make different arrangements for her supervision. I sincerely apologize for the toll this situation has taken on you emotionally."

"It's not that I don't want to stay with her, it's that I don't think it would be right."

"And why is that?"

"Well, that's the part that's hard to explain. I think I might have feelings for her… Not normal friend feelings like she has for me…"

"Have you discussed this with her?"

"No! She's going through enough right now without having to worry about that. And I know it's selfish, but I don't want to lose my best friend because of… because I want her in ways that normal girls like boys, I think."

"I see." His expression was serious. "I agree that it is not healthy for you to continue to keep so much about yourself from a good friend, but I don't think it would be fair to Hermione for you to distance yourself from her based simply on the reaction you fear she might have if you told her the truth about your feelings."

"You think I should just tell her? What if it ruins everything?"

"Perhaps you aren't giving her enough credit. I believe she would fight to preserve your friendship in much more complicated circumstances than these. I would certainly be surprised if she lets this come between you."

Ginny sighed heavily before nodding in agreement. "I guess you're right, but I'm still not looking forward to this. Thanks for listening. It hasn't been easy, but Hermione means a lot to me, and I want to help her any way I can."

"I wish you luck with what I know will be a difficult thing to discuss. Remember that we must often fight for the things we love most in life, and that sometimes those who give us the most joy also bring us much pain." Ginny tried to return his smile, though her face was held tight by the sadness and fear coursing through her veins.

She headed toward the room she shared with Hermione at a sluggish pace, dreading the conversation that would follow. It was still very early, and she wondered whether her friend would be awake yet. She was startled out of her musings by a soft, clear voice.

"Hello, Ginny." Luna smiled serenely, though she looked slightly dazed. Judging from her attire, she had just climbed out of bed. Rainbow socks hugged her legs, stopping just above her knees. Her pale pink robe hung open, revealing the silvery shorts and tank top she had slept in the night before. Eyes the color of the sea looked out from the cascading liquid moonlight of her hair.

"Hi, Luna." Ginny wasn't in the mood for casual conversation right now, and hoped she would be able to escape a lengthy discussion about which imaginary beasts might lurk in the shadows of this morning's sun. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep and it seemed like a lovely time for a walk. Is something troubling you?"

Ginny hesitated. She wanted to get the terrifying ordeal with Hermione out of the way as soon as possible, but perhaps it would be nice to have some company while she collected her thoughts.

"Actually, Luna, something is. But you have to promise to never tell anyone what I'm about to admit to you…

_I woke up alone this morning, _Hermione wrote, brushing away the hair that fell past her shoulder in front of her face, _and I don't know where Ginny went. I know it's selfish to want her with me constantly, but she makes me feel safe, and almost normal. I might have been neglecting this journal a little bit, but for some reason, Professor Snape hasn't been bothering me about it at all. Maybe he trusts me more than he should. _

_Ginny knows I like him, or something. Even I don't really know what's going on with him, but maybe it's not all in my imagination, because I think he can sense that Ginny knows and that it bothers him. Whatever's going on, his mood is definitely different when she's around. _

_Last night, I used her wand to make my tea replenish itself, and we ended up pestering Professor Snape for food even though it was insanely late. I ate so much, even after drinking that potion, I still feel bloated now. Having this much food in me is constantly uncomfortable, almost to the point where I would consider throwing away the progress I've made so far._

_Ginny doesn't look fat like I do, even though I think she's bigger than I am. Her skin looks soft and inviting, and even though I don't see the shadows of her bones, her body is defined. Why can't mine be like that?_

Hermione carried the journal with her to the bathroom, where she stripped off the robe that had been keeping her warm and stood in front of the mirror. It was the first time she had been able to examine herself in peace in a while. She ran palms from collarbones to calves, examining each dip and bulge, watching the way the shadows moved in sunlight. She folded her robe and sat on it, still nude, in front of the large mirror, taking the journal back into her lap.

_My body is not normal._

She paused, staring at the bold sentence written across the top of a fresh page, before quill met with creamy paper once more. She had always enjoyed the way it glided across, the way the damp ink glistened before the words soaked in.

_I don't know if I'm too fat or too thin. I can't convince myself entirely of either. The food is still sitting like lead, heavy in my stomach, and I want to be rid of it, but…_

_How sick do I have to be if I can't even tell whether I'm fat or thin?_

The sound of knuckles against the door startled Hermione out of her thoughtful trance.

"Just a moment." Her voice sounded uneasy as she stood, pulling thick fabric around her shoulders, ignoring the way the robe bunched around her waist as she tightened its belt.

"Are you alright?" His voice, rich dark silk, though slightly rough with tiredness, startled awake the swarm of butterflies that had laid dormant in Hermione's stomach.

A/N: Check out the homepage listed on my profile… you might get a peek at the next chapter early ;)


	27. The Kiss

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"I'm fine." Hermione ran fingers through her tangled hair, desperately trying to force it to behave as she reached for the bathroom door. She couldn't help but look a little sheepish, gazing up at him, remembering the previous night's behavior. "I was just… writing." she decided to be at least partially honest.

"I'm glad you're using the journal. I thought I heard you walking around a while ago, and was hoping you might join me for breakfast." His tone was surprisingly warm, and his face held none of the rage that she had expected after last night's behavior.

"Breakfast… um" Hermione felt the leaden weight of the previous night's indiscretions still in her stomach. "Would it be alright if I just have some coffee instead?"

She wondered if it was her imagination, or if a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sir," she continued tentatively, "I wanted to apologize for last night. My behavior was abhorrent."

"Hermione," he sighed, "I was young once myself, as hard as you may find that to imagine. What you did was irresponsible, but many witches and wizards your age have certainly done worse, and frankly, I'm impressed with your replenishing charm. The fact that you chose to eat and were able to do so without becoming ill shows that you have made progress. I would appreciate it if you'd attempt to eat some breakfast this morning, and," he grew slightly more stern at this point, "perhaps we should begin keeping some food in your room so that next time you feel inclined to eat at unusual hours, you will not find it necessary to disturb me."  
She smiled and followed him to the kitchen.

Hermione found eating breakfast just as difficult as it had been the day before, but she felt immensely relieved that she wouldn't be punished for the previous night's escapades, and managed to eat a fair amount of fruit before the familiar bloated feeling set in.

"Professor?"

"You may call me Severus if you'd like." The words were a barely audible mumble, spoken like a secret grudgingly confessed, but she heard him just the same.

"Severus?" Hermione tried to hide her shock.

"Yes?"

"Have you… Ginny was gone when I woke up. Do you know where she went?"

"I'm afraid not." He seemed strangely annoyed.

"Why don't you like her?"

"What have I done to indicate that I dislike your friend?"

"Well, nothing specific, but whenever you see her or I talk about her, you seem kind of annoyed."

"Miss Weasley has been a wonderful friend to you, and everyone who cares for you owes her a great deal for the sacrifices she has so willingly made for the sake of your health."

"That doesn't answer my question, Severus." Her tongue danced tentatively around the new word, often thought but never spoken, mouth caressing the name as the sound escaped.

"It is a difficult one to address, and I think if you ponder the situation, that question will, unfortunately, answer itself."

She looked at him, utterly confused.

"You're a clever girl, Hermione. You know that we often covet things we should never touch. It can be difficult to like someone who has captured the object of such an unhealthy desire."

"Seriously, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"To be completely honest, some of the feelings I've developed toward you are less than appropriate and I can't help but feel somewhat… envious of Miss Weasley at times."

"What exactly do you envy? It's not like…" Suddenly the pieces came together in Hermione's mind. "No Pr- Severus! Ginny and I aren't… involved… or anything."

"Hermione, that really shouldn't concern me."

"It shouldn't, but it does." The statement was almost a question, but she was sure enough of the answer that she felt herself rising from the table, drawing closer to him.

"This is not an appropriate conversation for me to be having with a student."

"It's nice to talk about something good for a change." She moved closer and he stood, almost afraid she would sit in his lap.

"This isn't right, Hermione."

Her eyes burned with pain and need. A woman hadn't looked at him this way in such a long time, and even as he tried to tell himself she was only a child, he could feel the warmth of her body, inches from his. Her hands crept tentatively around his neck and she leaned in slowly, as if afraid a sudden movement might startle him, standing on her toes to plant a gentle kiss on his lips before backing away.

His resolve crumbled and he dove forward, his mouth shaping itself against hers as his tongue slid gently over her lips. She let out a tiny gasp at the sudden contact, but her mouth opened, welcoming the contact. She ran her hands over his chest, devouring the feel of his body with starving fingertips.

Hermione could not do anything to restrain the feelings that drove her forward, pressing her body close to his, letting the lips that had haunted her dreams cover her face and neck with kisses. His nose grazed her shoulder as he inhaled deeply.

"You smell incredible." His voice was low and husky, the words escaping in a feral groan that made every inch of her tingle with need. She stared up at his face. She realized that though he wasn't conventionally attractive, nothing she had ever seen could compare to the devastating beauty of his smile. Her fingers traced the small creases sadness had left on his skin, and she kissed each tiny scar, wishing she could erase the pain those wounds had left etched into his heart. He brushed a hand across her cheek, the depths of his dark eyes filled with a warmth she hadn't imagined they could hold. The fingers that had touched her face grazed her hair, exploring the curve of her back through her thick robe.

It was almost unbearable to be so close to him. She wanted to press her body into his until there was no space left between them, until the pressure made her body ache. Unintelligible sound, almost too quiet to hear, escaped her lips as his hand slip around her waist and up to the place where the two sides of her robe met with her exposed chest. The skin on his fingers felt rough and calloused, but he touched her so gently they left a trail of goosebumps, sliding beneath warm fabric to cup her breast.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, and he pulled away as if the touch burned.

"No, Hermione, I never should have-"

"Please," her eyes shined with unshed tears and her voice was so soft he could hardly understand her. "don't stop."

"Why on Earth would you apologize?" His voice was a whisper and their bodies were already drawing closer again, propelled by some invisible force.

"They're so small." Cheeks burning, she stared at the floor. A firm hand lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"They're perfect." The conviction in his words left her feeling less self conscious, and she guided his hand back to her chest. He kissed her again, this time much more fiercely. _What am I doing? _he wondered, _this is so wrong. _He started to pull away; he had to stop before things went too far. Before he could fully disentangle himself, he felt a sharp pain in his lip, and a shock of ecstasy coursed through his body as she bit down, leaving the metallic taste of blood on his lips.

And it was too late. Before he could muster a coherent thought his wand was in his hand and everything had been blasted from the table, plates shattering on the floor, and he was on top of her, the force of his hips against hers pinning her down.

"Are you certain you want this?" Reason was trying desperately to break through, but even as he asked his body moved against hers.

"More than anything."

The airy chiming of the doorbell shattered the explosive heat that had been building between them, causing both to tense up, seized by terror.

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice drifted uncertainly through the door to their room, "Are you in there? I really need to talk to you about something…"


	28. Mistake

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The room was thick with guilt and fear. Severus and Hermione both knew what could happen if they were discovered, and though there was no way Ginny knew what was happening on the other side of the door, her voice was like ice water pouring over them, a reminder of the reality of their situation.

"That didn't happen." Hermione whispered reassuringly, standing and moving toward the door. She opened it and smiled brightly at a very nervous looking Ginny. "Hey, I was just finishing breakfast. What did you want to talk about?"

"You look a little flushed, Hermione. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just drank some… very hot tea. What's going on?" They moved to sit on Hermione's bed.

"Well, I don't really know how to say this, but it's wrong to keep it from you any longer."

When Ginny didn't continue for a few moments, Hermione started to grow impatient. "Keep what from me?"

"Well, it's hard to explain, really. Remember when you told me you're in love with someone you shouldn't be in love with?"

"Yes…" Adrenaline was coursing through her veins now. Did Ginny know somehow?

"Well, I sort of am too. And it's making things pretty complicated."

"Who are you-" Before Hermione could finish her sentence, soft lips brushed against hers.

"I'm sorry!" Ginny pulled back almost immediately. "I know that was wrong of me, but I had to."

Hermione tried to ignore the stream of obscenities coursing through her mind. "I'm so sorry. I don't… I can't. My heart is already taken."

"I know. I shouldn't have done that. I just had to tell you the truth and I couldn't help myself. I promise it'll never happen again!"

"It's ok. Can we still stay… you're not moving back to the dormitory, are you?"

"Well, I mean, I would understand if that was what you wanted."

"No. You're my best friend and I really like spending time with you, if you don't think it'll hurt you too much that we can never be anything more than best friends."

"It'll hurt, but not nearly as much as losing you entirely." They threw their arms around each other, and Hermione wondered when she had become so oddly appealing.

Meanwhile, Severus was pacing in his study, thoughts swarming through his head at an alarming rate.

This had been a mistake. He should have never revealed these feelings to anyone, especially not the object of his sick desire. It was wrong enough to want her, but to tell her, knowing she had developed feelings for him that at her age would be easy to mistake for love, had been unforgiveable. He couldn't even think about the physical contact between them, the lines he had crossed on multiple occasions, going far beyond the bounds of simply providing the distressed student with comfort.

He took a deep breath, throwing a handful of powder into his fireplace and stepping through when the flames turned green. He knew it was rude to go bursting into the headmaster's office unannounced yet again, but his mind was racing and he had to act before his feelings overpowered reason yet again.

"Severus!" for the first time in quite a while, Dumbledore looked surprised to see him.

"Good morning, Albus." he sank moodily into an overstuffed armchair, staring into the fire in silence.

"What's troubling you?" the kind voice carried obvious concern.

"I need to talk to you about Herm-Miss Granger. I feel that it is no longer in her best interest to remain under my supervision."

"And why is that?"

There was a long pause as Severus searched for the right words to describe the situation, for a way to explain his concerns without sounding like some sort of deranged pervert. "Well… I feel that the relationship developing between us has become too casual for that of a teacher and a student."

After a long pause, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Continue." he said, a slight hint of concern evident in his voice.

"During her illness, she became rather isolated, distancing herself from most friends her own age. I worry that some of the affection she should be feeling toward boys in her year is being… misdirected."

"I see. I am sure students have had crushes on you before, Severus, and you have always managed to handle yourself appropriately in the past." there was a slight edge in his tone now, "However, I must ask you, is Miss Granger the only one affected by these… misdirected feelings?"

There was another long silence. Severus shifted uncomfortably beneath the force of the older man's penetrating gaze. "I have some concerns," he hedged, "that she may be somewhat confused about the boundaries that must exist between us. I feel that it would be best if I remove myself from this situation before anything happens to cause her further emotional damage." He thought he caught a glimpse of well-concealed fury behind those placid blue eyes.

"And you are sure nothing of that nature has happened thus far."

"Yes, I am sure."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure I need not remind you that in addition to being your student, Hermione Granger is underage and emotionally distressed. Were I aware of any such relationship, it would be my responsibility to remove you from the grounds immediately."

"You will make other arrangements for her care?"

"I believe that would be best."

"Thank you. Would it be possible for someone to fill in for me today? I need to see to some personal issues."

"Certainly."Snape stood to leave, pausing when the headmaster spoke again, "And Severus, take care of yourself. The best of us find ourselves in terrible situations on occasion, but what truly matters is how we handle them. I am glad you came to me before this situation escalated."

Severus nodded, and, stepping into the flames the now glowed green, vanished.

The personal issues to which Severus referred happened to involve staring into his fireplace with a large cup of Star Flower tea in one hand and a bottle of firewhiskey in the other, the occasional tear sliding down his expressionless face.


	29. Longing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Please review! I love hearing what you think.

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After Snape's meeting with Dumbledore, Hermione's life changed dramatically. The room she shared with Ginny was now connected to Gryffindor tower, but it still had its own entrance, and they were allowed the keep the extravagant private bath. She wasn't allowed to return to classes yet, but Ron and Harry were bringing her homework so she could stay caught up. She was being given Star Flower tea once a week now, and if anyone knew she was sharing it with Ginny, they must have chosen to look the other way.

She was never told why she had suddenly been given so much freedom, but she was certainly not dense enough to miss the connection between her teacher's confession to her and his sudden absence from her life. She was still only allowed to use her wand in the presence of others, but Harry, Ron, and Ginny were now considered adequate supervision.

She had not written in her journal since that morning, though guilt kept her from removing it from her desk where it sat, almost accusingly. She knew it was petty of her to do this, that the book was intended for her benefit and not for his, but tracing her fingertips over the soft cover made her heart ache with longing for the man who had given it to her.

She wasn't ready to face eating in the Great Hall yet; she had been warned that her food intake, wherever she chose to eat, would be monitored carefully. Her meals were chosen in advance by Madam Pomfrey and appeared in her room, enchanted to remain there until a sufficient amount had been consumed. It hadn't escaped her notice that the portion sizes were slowly but steadily increasing, and she rarely allowed anyone but Ginny to sit with her while she ate.

The first few days after Ginny's confession had been rather uncomfortable, but they had been able to settle back into a fairly comfortable routine after that: they ate breakfast together in the morning, and then Ginny would get ready for class. Most days, she didn't return until after dinner. Hermione spent her time alone studying and took many long, warm baths. She spent very little time in the common room; Ron and Harry were both happy to visit in the room she shared with Ginny, and the whispers that traveled even between members of her own house were more than she could bear to face just yet.

Still, it was impossible to shake her persistent sense of betrayal. She had opened up to him, had thought he cared about her. He had even claimed to feel some of the same things she did, had kissed her back on that last morning… But how much could he possibly care if he was rid of her so easily? He could have told her, sent her a note, anything to let her know that she meant something to him.

And she wondered how much of the same pain Ginny felt because of her. She had been acting relatively normal, but on the other hand, Hermione wasn't even sure how long the younger girl had carried unspoken affection for her before all of this happened.

In short, life was hard. Hermione rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the smell of the food sitting impatiently on the table beside her, trying not to wonder where Ginny had gone this early on a Saturday morning. It took a lot of effort, sometimes, just to remember that Ginny had to have a life outside of the room they shared, that moving out of the dormitory was more than Hermione could have ever asked of her.

Hermione glanced over at the food. No one was here to watch her eat. She wanted to get better, but those pants from summer could almost stay up without a belt again. She knew she had to be gaining a lot of weight, and maybe just one meal…

There was only one way to find out. She struggled to ignore the waves of guilt and apprehension washing over her. _I'll eat some of it, _she told herself, _I'll only get rid of a little bit, just to see if I can._

She was nervous, but she couldn't resist trying. She sat up and turned to face the food, slowly taking a forkful of it and hiding it in her napkin. She was slightly worried that Madam Pomfrey had some way of tracking when and how much she ate, so she decided it was safer if the food vanished slowly. This would be so much easier if she had her wand.

First she carved the yolks out of the fried eggs, letting their innards drip through the tines of the fork. Disgusting. It would be nice if she could get away without those. Then the bacon, bit by bit, and her toast in the same manner. All that remained on her plate were the egg whites and some melon. That looked a lot more manageable. She carried the food to the bathroom quickly, and even though she knew it was wrong, watching the uneaten food disappear down the toilet made her feel stronger.

When she returned to her room, she was shocked to find that her plate had vanished. Thinking back, she realized that the food she had thrown away would have been considered a sufficient breakfast. Since she couldn't go to the kitchen to get more food, she decided missing breakfast just once probably wouldn't hurt anything. It was certainly a more appealing option than admitting what she had done.

It was hard not to feel restless. She had finished her homework after a couple of hours, and paced anxiously, knowing Ginny wouldn't be back until much later. She could go down to the common room, she supposed, but even the thought of it made her cringe.

The journal caught her eye again. He would never know whether she had written in it, and it felt good to get her thoughts out. Maybe she was punishing herself more than she was punishing him by refusing to write about what was going on. She sat in the bed with the book cradled in her lap, and began to write…

_Today, I was bad. _

_I'm afraid to write down what I've done, even though this is supposed to be for my eyes only. The thing is, if anyone found out…_

_Would he even care if he knew? Was everything that happened between us set into motion by my overactive imagination? He wouldn't let me go back, even if I needed him. I wasn't willing to settle for what he was willing to offer, and now I have nothing. _

_Am I in love with him? I hate sleeping now because he keeps invading my dreams. I wake up feeling so empty…_

_He told me he felt it too. Why did he have to push me away? Why can't I stop obsessing over this? I wish I could cut myself without someone knowing. It's messed up, but it feels like when I bleed, a lot of bad feelings seep out of the cut. And then when it's over, I feel bad about it, but all of my other feelings have drained out and at least the pain is simple then. At least it's a problem I can understand. _

_I'm an idiot for trusting anything he gave me. He doesn't fucking care. How do I know he was telling the truth about anything?_

Hermione flung the journal across the room, feeling a tiny pang of guilt as it hit the wall and fell, pages fluttering.


	30. Star Flowers and Moonlight

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: My laptop is still dead. I'm going to do my best to do occasional updates, but the computer I have access to right now is about ten years old and not very happy about being used...

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Hermione felt somehow cleaner, letting the day slip by with an empty stomach. She was careful to eat what she wanted of lunch before stuffing the rest in her napkin and carrying it to the bathroom. Now that she had found a way to recover at her own pace, she decided she would have to avoid meals in the Great Hall for as long as she could.

Ginny joined her for dinner, looking decidedly more cheerful than usual.

"And where have you been all day?" Hermione asked playfully, feeling rather smug herself since she had finally found a way around being forced to eat the amount other people thought she needed. She did her best to ignore the tiny needling voice in the back of her head that warned her she was playing with fire by messing with her portion sizes when no one was looking, that every bite she didn't eat fed a force that would destroy her if she let it.

"Just sitting by the lake with Luna." She could have sworn she saw a blush creeping over Ginny's freckled cheeks. Hermione smiled.

"I take it things went well?"

Ginny blushed harder. "They might have."

"I suppose she can join us for tea tonight, if you'd like." Her refilling charms had improved considerably since she regained possession of her own wand, and she was rather curious about the girl who seemed to be taking up so much of Ginny's time lately.

"Really?" those honey-brown eyes were round with excitement, and Hermione pushed away the nagging feeling in her stomach that she was making a mistake and nodded. Ginny flung her arms around Hermione, but pulled away quickly, blushing scarlet. "Right, well, we'll meet you here after dinner. Er-thanks." They looked anywhere but at each other while Ginny spoke, then she turned and swept out of the room.

Hermione crawled into bed, hoping she would be able to take a nap. Unfortunately, her body buzzed with the tension it carried from the day. Weekdays were easier. At least then she had more homework to keep her occupied. Ron and Harry were probably off somewhere with their beloved brooms, letting the wind that whooshed past their ears whisk away the weight of everything that rested on their shoulders. She envied them sometimes; everything seemed so simple to them. They struggled to comprehend why she wouldn't want to eat, why she would put herself through what they saw as nothing more than a slow and painful suicide.

She sighed, skimming through her Transfiguration textbook for what felt like the millionth time. She was starting to fall behind in Potions, but thinking about the subject made her think about the teacher, and the pain was so distracting she made little progress even when she did work up the nerve to sit down with her text and try to push through the thoughts that flooded through her mind every time she remembered her feelings for him.

Not long after five, her tea appeared, the nourishing potion it was made to help her stomach materializing on the tray beside it. Since she was taking the potion less often, she was expected to consume a more substantial quantity, and allowed to miss dinner on the nights designated for the drinking of Star Flower tea.

No one had said a thing about breakfast or lunch, she realized, and she wouldn't be able to shave as many calories off during the week without Ginny noticing, so Hermione decided to cut back on what she knew must be a fattening beverage, even though she needed much of what was in it to survive. After half of her nourishing draught had been washed down the drain, she cast a refilling charm on the tea and started drinking.

By the time Ginny burst through the door to their room, giggling with Luna in tow, Hermione was feeling a fair bit more relaxed. It seemed that her diminished food intake was making the tea work faster.

"Hello, Luna." Hermione said warmly, looking the silvery blond over with barely concealed curiosity. Luna smiled back at her and waved, then approached, looking a bit more serious.

"I know there must be a million rumors about me going around right now." Hermione couldn't hide the embarrassment in her voice. Luna's normally serene gaze had grown more penetrating, and she leaned forward.

"I don't put much stock in rumors, but I did want to ask you one thing."

"Alright…" This made Hermione undeniably nervous, and even Ginny looked a little uneasy.

"You're not a vampire, are you?"

"What?"

"I support different lifestyles and everything, but I'd be rather put off if you tried to drink Ginny…"

Hermione exchanged a glance with the redhead, finding her laughter even harder to suppress after seeing the humor dancing in Ginny's eyes. "No Luna, I'm not a vampire."

"Thank goodness." Luna sank down on the bed next to her, then shot an inquisitive glance at the tea. "Is that what Ginny was talking about?"

Hermione was immensely relieved that her eating habits weren't going to be a topic of discussion tonight. Still, she looked at the other girls firmly.

"You both have to put your wands away in the desk before you start drinking this stuff." The two younger girls eagerly complied, and she handed Luna the tea, still not entirely sure this was the best idea. Luna paused, sniffing the tea with a puzzled expression.

"This tea smells just like my father." Ginny and Hermione avoided each others eyes, fighting back laughter. Luna smiled and took a few sips before passing the mug to Ginny. "I can definitely see the appeal of this," she mused, "it has quite a nice flavor to it, and it's giving me the most peculiar sensations. Do you have a quill and parchment I might borrow?"

Hermione shrugged, passing Luna the requested items before accepting another drink from the cup. Luna leaned against the headboard with the parchment propped against her knees, scribbling furiously and looking rather pleased. Her eyes never left the paper, and though her quill moved without stopping, her free hand would accept the mug when it was offered.

Ginny and Hermione talked about inconsequential things, with the occasional interjection from Luna. They had started to wonder whether she was going to do anything other than draw when, with a contented sigh, she tossed the parchment aside and looked up.

"Ginny tells me you have a rather exceptional bathtub. Would it be possible for us to continue in the other room?"

Hermione shrugged and stood, a bit baffled. She had heard stories about Luna, but until this moment, had assumed they were exaggerated. Ginny had made her sound normal enough.

When they reached the bathroom, Ginny knelt and turned on the tap. Luna shrugged out of her robe. Apparently she didn't bother wearing anything underneath. Hermione imagined that must get a little drafty, especially in the colder months.

The moonlike orbs lighting the room made Luna look almost inhuman. Her skin reflected the pure white glow, and the blonde hair that cascaded to her waist in careless waves took on a distinctly silver hue. Hermione made a mental note to look into whether wood nymphs could sometimes breed with humans, and which traits were common among such offspring.

This wasn't really where she had expected the night to go, but, still holding the tea, she shrugged out of her nightgown and slid into the water. She couldn't help but wonder whether it would feel strange to have Ginny see her naked after the confession she had made (the situation had been pointedly avoided ever since), but she noticed with relief and slight confusion that Ginny's eyes were glued to Luna. Hermione supposed it wasn't a particularly unusual response, considering the way Luna nearly glowed in the evening light. She even felt a little pang of jealousy, though she dismissed it quickly. She wanted someone to look at her the way Ginny looked at Luna. Not just anyone, really, but…

As the familiar pain snaked through her chest, Hermione focused on distracting herself.

"So, Luna, I've never had much chance to talk to you before, but Ginny seems rather fond of you, so I'd love to get to know you better." Hermione wanted to kick herself when she saw the shade of crimson both younger girls turned.

"Well, I'm sure you're familiar with The Quibbler. I do enjoy writing the occasional article, and if it's good my father publishes it, after doing a bit of fact-checking, of course. I never knew Ginny particularly well, but since I started tutoring her this year…"

Hermione flashed Ginny an angry look. As bored as she got all day, she would have been pathetically happy to help with schoolwork…

"Er," Ginny interjected, looking a bit nervous, "I was having some trouble in Divination, and Professor Trelawney is simply mad about Luna…"

"Divination?" Hermione sputtered. It was something of a sore spot for her that the school even taught such a silly subject. Luna looked taken aback, and Hermione rushed to take back any offense she had caused. "I'm sorry Luna, I didn't mean to insult your beliefs-"

"Oh, I don't believe in it." Luna said serenely.

"What?" Hermione was flabbergasted.

"Rather, I don't believe one can be taught to see the future. I know some people are born with the gift of sight, but it's more of a curse anyway from what I've heard."

"But if you don't believe you're learning anything useful…" Hermione couldn't wrap her mind around this strange girl.

"It doesn't have to be real to be fun. I rather like pretending that every time I have a cup of tea, my future is spelled out neatly before me in the dregs at the bottom of the mug. Besides, I was born with the gift of a fantastic imagination. Not many classes here help me exercise it, and I'd hate to lose it."

"So the whole class is just a game to you?" Hermione was baffled. Ginny giggled.

"You say that like games are unimportant." Luna smiled brightly at Hermione. "I think you and I have a lot to learn from one another."

"Luna," Ginny said, the empty mug clinking against the tile as she set it down, "you have the most incredible skin I've ever seen."

"It's nice of you to say that," Luna murmured, "but I've always envied those breathtaking freckles." They gazed silently into each others eyes for a moment.

"Right," Hermione said, climbing out of the water and wrapping herself in a nice thick towel, "I think I'd best be getting out before I shrivel up completely. I'm going to go climb into bed and do a bit of reading or something before I go to sleep."

She glanced over her shoulder, catching their absentminded nods as she left the room.


	31. Alone

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione found herself sitting on the bed, warm, clean, intoxicated, and completely awake. She resigned herself to another night spent in the company of her journal.

_This is fucking pathetic. Even Ginny has managed to find someone. Almost instantly, in fact. How real were her feelings for me if she could latch onto Luna that fast?_

_What's wrong with me? I should be happy for them. It's just that I know what was there with Professor Snape was nothing, and now I'm starting to wonder if anyone has real feelings for me at all. I used to think Ron did, but now he looks at me like I'm from another planet. I guess I had nothing to hope for with him anyway._

_At least now I can put off getting fat. I know that's what they want to do to me, in the end. I guess they want to teach me a lesson about not eating enough. I have to show them I won't give in. Right now I feel like I only have one thing left to hold onto, and I'm not letting it go. _

_I will lose weight._

_I will show those fuckers they can't control me, not completely. _

_It feels like my body is all I have left._

Severus Snape sat in the Hog's head, nursing a large glass of Firewhiskey and watching a brunette at the bar. Her hair was lank and shiny, nothing like the chestnut mane that haunted his dreams. Still, he seemed to have developed a soft spot for women with dark hair. He wasn't conventionally attractive. Of course he knew that. But sometimes women were still drawn to him, fascinated by the blackness of his eyes and a charisma no one could explain.

She was looking at him now, and he could see the questions in her eyes. If he played things just right… Well, he knew he needed the release. He needed to move on, to stop fixating on Hermione.

She was approaching the corner where he sat, hips swaying seductively, a small twinkle in her dull brown eyes. It was only natural for him to take a quick peek inside her mind, just skimming the surface in a way no one ever seemed to notice. It was a good way to get to know someone.

She wasn't as bright as he had hoped, and his initial impression of the girl had been pessimistic at best.

"Is this seat taken?" She had a lovely voice, clear and soft like a bell carrying hints of laughter. Perhaps this would be enough to compensate for her inability to understand half of the things he liked to discuss. Not likely, but what was life without hope?

"No, it is not." Snape stared into the murky depths of his drink, taking another harsh swig before looking at her. "I'm Severus." He held out his hand, feeling the softness of her skin as her fingers laced through his.

"Nice to meet you, Sev. I'm Anne." He tried not to cringe when she called him that. If he failed to hide his disgust, she failed to notice.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Normally he'd want to hit himself for using such a pathetic line, even ironically, but she didn't matter to him. Deep down he knew he'd prefer if she just went away. But then, he mused, maybe this indifference was part of his charm.

They talked and he drank, trying not to think too much. Before he knew what was happening, he was following her out the door and through a series of winding alleys. He recognized that they were in a small muggle town now, though he had no idea where.

Her split ends danced in the wind, and he wanted to go with her, but he knew it would be another hollow night, another morning he would wake up with his head pounding and his stomach aching, another notch on his belt to hide from the world. Why even bother?

She was inviting him in now. Her voice was soft, almost like she was singing, and a part of him wanted to go upstairs. He knew moving on would be for the best. Still, something in him refused. He was making excuses about some morning plans and slipping off even though he had no clue where he was going.

He woke up in Dumbledore's office, with those infuriatingly perceptive eyes searching his own, though his vision was still blurry.

"Severus, this is much worse than I thought." His voice was low. The concern in his voice was deep enough to drown out the anger seething beneath the surface.

"What are you- how did I get here?"

"A friend found you. Let's leave it at that. I believe there are much more pressing matters we need to address."

"Pressing matters?"

"Miss Granger isn't faring too well herself."

"What are you talking about?"

"She's started to lose weight again. I can't know what's happening between the two of you, but you need to find some sort of resolution. I don't know what happened before, but it's eating you both alive."

"Surely you're not suggesting-"

"I am suggesting nothing, Severus." His voice was sharp. "If something is taking place beyond what I am aware of, you know my duty should the situation come to light. I expect you to resolve this situation to the best of your ability, doing as little harm as possible in the process." Now he leaned closer, squinting and offering a vial. "Perhaps you should drink this before the hangover takes full effect."  
Severus drank the potion gratefully, then rose and rushed back to his quarters.

He spent the better part of the day pacing. He wanted to see her again. She couldn't be losing that much weight, could she? He found the strength of his desire to check on her infuriating. This was not the time to succumb. He knew they stood on the cusp of a new war, that all of the horrors the wizarding world had struggled for years to suppress were about to burst forth. Becoming attached to any woman would only put her in danger…

Still, he wondered if anything could be more of a danger to her than she was to herself.

And in the end, would anything he did really matter?


	32. Pain

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Though she had started to lose weight again, Hermione managed to convince Madam Pomfrey to let her start attending classes once more. Though the girl was bright, she was starting to find it very difficult to keep up in all of her classes, and she wasn't willing to let herself fall too far behind.

The first day back was hell. Ron and Harry did everything they could to stay by her side and provide support, but there was nothing they could do to stop the whispers and curious glances. At least she didn't have Potions until after the weekend. She was doing her best to push him out of her mind, but found herself becoming obsessive about avoiding him.

Her first breakfast back in the Great Hall was uncomfortable, to say the least. Hermione felt like the entire school was watching her eat, and every time she looked up from her plate she caught at least one person quickly averting their eyes. Her housemates tried to be supportive, but their attention only made her stomach constrict into tighter knots. She forced herself to eat as much as she could, knowing that it would be terribly risky to attempt to hide food with so many people watching. She would have to wait a few days until the interest in her died down. Still, Ginny was the only reason she made it through the meal. She sat next to Hermione, protectively close, shooting a terrifying glare at anyone she suspected of so much as considering addressing the forbidden subject.

By the end of her first class, Hermione felt tired. Her spells had less power behind them than they used to, and it was hard to keep her mind from wandering. It seemed as though everyone was either treating her like a leper, or, worse, forcing hollow conversations with her while pretending nothing had ever happened, eyes occasionally sweeping over her body.

Severus had heard that Hermione would be starting classes again, but was still shocked when he saw her at breakfast. She sat surrounded by a cluster of pushy friends, clearly ill at ease. She did look thin still. In fact, she no longer looked much better than she had in the days leading up to her suicide attempt. He remembered what it had been like for him at her age, the way everyone had treated him when rumors leaked out about the things his father did to him. Being an object of gossip, pity, and fascination had been a truly miserable experience.

After watching her again at lunch, driven insane by the pain etched across her face, he knew he had to talk to her, though he still didn't know what to say. The first time he tried to stop her in the hall, she simply kept walking, letting her bony shoulder bump his arm as she strode past.

She thought she had been ready to face him if she had to, but when she saw the overwhelming worry in his eyes, Hermione felt as though her insides were being torn apart. She needed to get away, to be alone. She sprinted away from him, dashing down an unused corridor and through the first unlocked door she came to. Sobs shook her body as she sank to the floor of a large linen closet.

She was late of course, for her next class. Once she had cried until her eyelids felt like rubber and her limbs were heavy, she had slowly risen, stopping in a bathroom to wash her face on the way. No one had commented on her late arrival or reddened eyes. The first day back, they knew, must be hard.

By dinner things were getting a little bit easier. Harry and Ron were at least getting better at talking to her without acting like she was made of glass and anything they said could shatter her. She still struggled to keep her eyes away from the head table, refusing to look at him. She ate everything on her plate, even though her stomach still hurt from lunch. The stares were getting easier to ignore. As dessert appeared on the table, her heart started to race.

Her clothes felt tighter than they had in the morning. She had been stuffing her face all day to make them think she was normal, but she didn't feel anywhere close to normal. The food was like poison, giving her the energy to feel all of the pain her hunger kept at bay. She smiled at Harry.

"I'm afraid I'm a little behind in my classes. I need to grab a few books from the Library then get back to my room and study. I'll see you guys later."

Ginny looked up from her plate. "I wanted to stop there too. Hold on a minute and I'll come with you."

"That's alright. I think I can manage by myself."

Harry looked at her. "You know we're not supposed to let you wander around alone too much." His calmly spoken words filled her with anger and frustration. She was sick of being treated like a child.

"Harry," she said calmly, "I think I can manage a quick stop in the library on the way to my room. I promise, I'll be fine."

Luna, who had been sitting with Ginny, looked at Hermione curiously. Though the blonde's face betrayed nothing, Hermione had the most uncomfortable feeling that the girl knew more than she let on. "Is it alright if Ginny and I join you in a bit? We have to do an essay for transfiguration, and there were a few things I was hoping you could help me with."

Hermione nodded and left, ignoring the eyes she felt on her back. As soon as the door swung shut behind her, she hurried toward the nearest bathroom, praying it would be empty. She let out a sigh of relief when she found that it was, casting a silencing spell on the stall and falling to her knees.

Severus hated how aware he was of Hermione, the way he noticed her every move no matter how hard he tried to push her from his mind. He was impressed with the poise she displayed. Knowing how much pain she was in, it was hard to believe she could wear such a perfect façade, acting as though she didn't even notice the way the others were looking at her. When she stood and left alone, he tried to ignore the restlessness that rushed through his body and stay where he sat. He could see a slight stiffness in the way she walked, as though she had to focus very hard on slowing her pace. He could tell she wanted to run.

He looked around. No one else had stood to follow her. Cursing his obsession, he swiftly walked out of the Great Hall, traveling in the direction he thought she would have taken. His hand slid into his pocket, graceful fingers slipping around his wand. He slid his eyes shut, focusing on the feel of her magic. Following the traces of magical energy another witch or wizard left behind was a relatively uncommon ability, and one he rarely admitted to having. It definitely had its perks. Though the trail someone left was gone within minutes, it lasted long enough to allow him to follow someone undetected, or to sense when they were approaching him.

He was moving faster now, knew he was getting close. He sighed when he found himself outside of a girls bathroom, imagining what would inevitably transpire inside. He waited there until she emerged, looking pale and a little bit shaky. She stopped when her eyes met his, clearly startled, then moved quickly to pass him. He grabbed her wrist, and she spun to face him.

"What do you want?" He could see the agony in her eyes.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I've handled everything wrong. I never meant to hurt you, to do things to confuse you…"

"It's fine. I have to go study now." She turned to leave.

"You're not trying hard enough to get better."

She glared at him. "How would you know?"

"You're losing weight again. You just made yourself sick because you couldn't stand having eaten dinner."

"I'm fine." Her eyes hardened as her gaze met his. "If you really want me to get better, you'll leave me alone."

Before he could say another word, she was rushing away from him, vanishing around a corner, and he didn't have the energy to stop her. He slumped against the wall, holding his face in his hands.

Hermione spent the rest of the day in bed, crying with her hangings closed. When Ginny and Luna tried to check on her she pretended to be asleep, and they decided to let her rest.

She hated him for pretending to care again, for ever letting her think he cared in the first place.

It was a long weekend. She forced herself to eat in the Great Hall even though it made her feel naked and exposed. She tried to eat a lot of protein to improve her energy level, but ended up hiding a great deal of food in her napkin and disposing of it later. Ginny was starting to give her a little bit more space, which felt nice in a way, but a lot of the pain she had felt before was working its way back into her. She read often and slept very little, always keeping her mind busy to push away unwanted thoughts.

Though she only left her room for meals, she saw Snape repeatedly in the hallways, always trying to approach her. She kept people around her as often as possible when she wasn't in her room, knowing he wanted to talk to her alone and was less likely to attempt to take her aside if she was with someone.

She didn't know how she would make it through Monday.


	33. Survival

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

During Monday morning breakfast, Hermione could still feel dozens of eyes on her, though they were at least getting a bit easier to ignore.

She pushed the food around her plate, not daring to hide much in her napkin. The worst part was knowing _he_ was watching. She had let her guard down, and on the way in, glanced in the direction of the staff table. Her eyes found his almost instantly, though she hadn't realized until that moment what she had been looking for.

He was staring back at her, and even though he was obviously aware she saw him, he didn't look away. His eyes burned with some strong emotion, though she couldn't tell whether it was sadness or curiosity.

She told herself she didn't want to know, that everything she thought he felt for her had existed only in her imagination.

Hermione tried so hard to focus in Potions. Harry and Ron could tell she was distracted, but were somehow too dense to understand why. She could feel his eyes on her almost constantly. If she didn't know better, she would think he looked concerned.

And the class pushed out of the room, Hermione letting herself be drawn by the crowd. No one heard her sharp intake of breath, saw her stiffen as his fingers brushed her wrist when she walked past.

Something about it was more than she could take. She turned to Harry and Ron.

"I need to get something from my room before next hour."

"If it's your book you can just share with me." Harry offered.

Hermione shook her head.

"Do you need me to lend you some parchment?" Ron asked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, speaking in a loud and significant whisper. "No, I have to get something for my… girl problems."

Both boys turned beet red and let her leave without further objection. She certainly hadn't shared with them that she had ceased to have "girl problems".

As soon as they were gone, she was pushing into an abandoned classroom, biting her lip as she held back tears. She pulled out the tiny blade she had stashed a long time ago in her bag and immediately pressed it against the skin of her arm. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as the first tiny ruby spheres swelled from the cut. She didn't hear the door quietly opening behind her as she continued to hurt her arm. Suddenly, long fingers wrapped around her wrist while another hand reached around to pluck the blade from her grasp.

"You were supposed to talk to me before letting yourself do this." Snape's voice, quiet in her ear, resonated with the depth of his anger.

Twisting out of his arms, she spun to face him. "Why won't you leave me the fuck alone?" Those small, fragile hands were pushing him away with surprising force. Glancing down, he could tell she was fighting tears. A part of him came alive again with an odd sense of joy at his ability to provoke such an emotional response.

He stumbled back a single step in shock, then regained his composure and stood his ground. She glared at him, eyes full of so much loathing, and he looked back, utterly lost.

And the walls of ice she had erected melted in his burning gaze, pouring down her face broken into so many tiny tears. Without thought, without hesitation, he was moving forward, reaching toward her shoulders, desperate to comfort her. Her shoes pounded against the hard stone floor as she ran out of the room, tugging the sleeve of her robe down to cover her arm.

It was infuriating! Why did she have to be so difficult? Severus stormed out of the room, knowing she would vanish long before he reached the hallway.

When she left dinner, he was waiting outside the Great Hall.

"Miss Granger, I'd like to have a word with you. Please accompany me to my office." She glared, but didn't dare disobey. As soon as the door closed behind them, his affect changed completely.

"Hermione, please," his voice was soft and his eyes smoldered, "you're letting this kill you."

She rounded on him, furious, and shouted, "Since when do you care?"

His eyes flashed dangerously and he opened his mouth, but before he could speak, her hand collided with his face, the slap shattering the silence between them. He stared at her, unflinching, as awareness of what she had done blossomed in her eyes.

Her face froze, tinged pink with shock at her own actions. Her fingers drifted up to touch the warm red mark on his cheek, and he closed his eyes.

And then they were kissing, unsure of who had initiated it, hearts racing, breath coming faster and faster.

This was wrong, was not what he was supposed to be doing. Severus drew away from the kiss, feeling small under the intensity of her gaze.

"You're incredible," he murmured, eyes closed, face unreadable. "I wish more than anything that this," he gestured helplessly, "this thing between us could be permissible, but I'm afraid it would be far too damaging to you."

She glared at him. "You want me to think you care about me," she tried to keep the tremble out of her voice, "after you spend so much time freely fucking with my head?"

"Hermione-" his voice ached with sadness, but she interrupted, shooting him an icy glare.

"Stop. This has already gone too far."

It was harder than ever now, to stop herself from crying. Hermione refused to let the tears that stung her eyes spill down her pale cheeks.

She turned to him, glaring. "It wasn't right for you to pretend you cared about me. It was manipulative and fucking wrong, and I can't even imagine what you had to gain by doing what you did."

"I'm sorry." His eyes burned with seriousness, but she ignored him.

"I let myself think there was someone worth living for, something in this life that was worth the pain of survival. There's nothing I regret more than being wrong about you, trying to heal so that I could offer myself to you as a complete, unblemished whole."

"You need to get better for yourself. I care about you, more deeply than you can ever know, but-"

"Shut up!" The tears were sliding down her face now. Her scream froze him dead in his tracks. Severus stared at her in shock.

And then she was in his arms again. She couldn't stop herself from loving it, couldn't resist the way his scent and gentle touch made her head swim with bliss and longing.

"Hermione," he murmured into her hair, "I am your teacher. I can't let this continue, no matter how badly I want to be with you."

She pulled away, shot him an icy glare, and ran from the room.

Hermione spent the rest of the night sobbing. Ginny and Luna had assumed she was asleep and decided not to bother her. She was glad that the tears could stream down her face without burning under someone else's knowing eyes. Sometimes it was better to suffer alone, to suffer in silence.

Snape paced his study, emotions more chaotic than they had ever been, wondering if his life would ever feel right again.

------

A/N: Comments?


	34. Beginning

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione's days moved much faster now that she was back in class, though every moment still seemed excruciatingly slow. Professor Snape continued to appear everywhere she turned, looking at her from the shadows, moving through corridors she had never seen him use before. The other students were finally beginning to tire of speculating on her eating habits and watching her every move, but teachers were still paying an uncomfortable amount of attention to her, shooting constant inquisitive glances or reassuring smiles. As a result, no one seemed to notice the way Severus watched her.

Potions had become especially miserable. The professor made a point of antagonizing Harry more than usual, looming over the boy as he worked, and as a result, he was seldom more than a few feet away from Hermione, who struggled to focus.

A dull rainy Thursday found Hermione partnered with Harry again, trying to ignore the tiny hints of Snape's scent that occasionally drifted past her as he walked. The thunder outside mumbled through the stone walls, a constant reminder of the gloomy weather in the dark, windowless room. As she leaned over to sprinkle a dash of dessicated newt tongue into her cauldron, her teacher's robes, billowing out as he walked, brushed lightly against her arm. The unexpected touch made her skin tingle, and as tiny fireworks exploded uncontrollably in the pit of her stomach, the jar she was holding slid through her clammy fingers, splashing the boiling, caustic liquid on her outstretched hand, which grasped desperately at the empty air where the container had been. The glistening fuchsia liquid quickly bubbled into a dull brown sludge while Hermione stared dumbly at the tiny blisters forming on her hand.

"Bloody Hell, Hermione!" Ron shouted as he caught sight of her hand. She glanced up at Professor Snape, who had turned from where he stood a few tables away to reprimand Ron. She watched his cold gaze shift from Ron's shocked expression to her damaged hand. He rushed toward her, wrapping long, calloused fingers around her wrist. Before she could object, he was pulling a small bottle from one of his robe pockets and pouring the contents over her damaged skin. Hermione watched silently as the cool liquid sucked the throbbing pain away from her fingers, disturbingly large blisters fading back until nothing but a few pink splotches marred her skin.

"Detention, Granger," he growled, "seven tonight. You are to inform me _immediately_ of any injuries you incur during my class." He lifted her hand so the other students could see the damage clearly as he addressed the class. "Had Miss Granger negligently allowed the caustic mixture to eat away at her skin for a few moments more, she would have risked losing use of this hand completely." He tossed her arm aside and shot her a look full of anger and disgust. "Class dismissed. Those who have managed an acceptable potion may turn in a sample. Your final product should be magenta. If the color isn't somewhere in the red part of the spectrum, do not bother submitting it for grading."

Grumbling, the class filed out. Again, at dinner, Professor Snape was watching Hermione. Her mind was racing, desperately searching for some way to get out of the detention that was approaching much too quickly for her liking. She walked into his room, letting her feet scuff against the stone floor as she approached the desk at the front of the room. He looked up from grading assignments, and was surprised by the realization that she was less than five minutes early.

Even more shocking was the realization that he had nothing for her to do. He had been in a particularly foul mood lately, and of course found the notion of taking his frustrations out on his students utterly irresistible. As a result of the numerous detentions he'd assigned, his room was now perfectly organized.

"Will you accompany me to my office?" he struggled to keep his voice from betraying the weakness that filled his heart.

She rolled her eyes. "Do I have a choice?"

He smiled, and shrugged. He stood, and she followed. He sat behind his desk, and she took one of the chairs that faced it, but neither could find the right words to speak.

Finally, his voice broke the silence, quiet, but deep, and oh so intense. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be." Her eyes refused to meet his.

"I care about you."

She shot him a look that was pure venom. "You're lying."

"No. Can't you see that I'm denying both of us what we so desperately desire _because _I care about you?"

"If you cared about me, you'd talk to me, instead of shuffling me out of your life like I meant nothing!"

His cool fingers pressed against her chin, forcing her to look up into his unfathomable eyes. "I stayed away because I don't want to hurt you, Hermione."

"It's a little late for that now, don't you think?"

He bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"That's it?" shock sent light echoes through her hollow voice.

"You're going through a great deal right now. You're young and unstable. It would be wrong to get involved with you. I would be taking advantage of your vulnerable emotional state."

"I'm younger than you are, but that doesn't mean I'm not old enough to know what I want! The things I feel for you… I can't imagine being able to feel that way about a boy my age. They can barely understand me well enough to be my friends. How am I supposed to form some deep emotional bond with an idiot that thinks I'm nutty?"

He sighed. This was hard, much harder than he thought. "I'm sorry." The words seemed so inadequate.

She glared, clearly fighting back tears. "Do you care at all?"

"More than you can imagine."

"Enough to try?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you care enough to make an effort with me? You say you have feelings for me, but then you pull away, hide from me like I have the plague, and after, suddenly turn into some sort of horrible shadow, following me everywhere. What am I supposed to think?"

"I love you." His voice was barely a whisper, but she heard him clearly in the silence. Her eyes darted up to meet his, but his gaze shifted quickly to the empty desk shining beneath his folded arms.

"You _what?_"

"Don't make me repeat myself. I should have said nothing. This was a terrible idea."

"Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"That I mean anything to you. At least put some effort into whatever is happening between us. If nothing else, please, stop fighting it so hard."

"I can't make your life even more complicated when you're slowly wasting away under the pressures that already exist."

"I'm not fucking made of glass." The tears that had been stinging her eyes flowed freely now down her flushed face. "If you care about me like _that_, even a little bit, you should at least be willing to try to be close to me, instead of leaving me cold and alone when I need someone more than ever!"

He was stunned into silence. He stood and walked around the desk, coming to a stop in front of her and sitting down. She let out a tiny squeak of surprise as strong arms pulled her into his lap and his lips brushed over the back of her neck.

"I cannot," he began, "enter any sort of romantic entanglement with you in your current state of mind." He glanced at her stunned face before he continued. "If, however, you begin to take care of yourself, perhaps I will reconsider. It would still be terribly unethical for me to even contemplate such a thing, but I can't deny that I feel drawn to you in a way I've never experienced. I think, perhaps, if you were more mentally healthy, allowing a relationship to develop wouldn't be entirely out of the question, though because of our current roles, you could tell no one."

He looked down into her eyes and her lips seized his. Before he was fully aware of what he was doing, his tongue was brushing against hers. Their mouths were locked together for moments or for hours, lost in a tentative yet intricate dance, before he pulled away.

"We cannot move too quickly." He sounded slightly breathless, but still unusually stern. "The most important thing right now is for you to be healthy. If you can't talk to me about what's happening to you, you should go back to your room and write." His gaze upon her now was shrewd, questioning. "I suspect you may not have been doing that as consistently lately as you should have."

She didn't want to leave his presence, but when she tried to talk to him about the tempest of emotions swirling inside her, the words dried up and caught in her throat. Accepting that anything else would be more than she could handle just then, she returned to her room to write.

Ginny, of course, wasn't back yet. She had been rushing in just as curfew approached more and more often lately, and Hermione expected that she was spending the majority of her time off somewhere with Luna. It was much easier to be happy for them now that she had some faint hope of capturing the heart of the man who kept her up at night. She took the journal from its hiding place under her bed and sat at the large desk, surprised by how quickly the words fell over the page.

_He wants me healthy, whole, complete. I want him more than anything, but I don't know if I'm strong enough._

_He sets my heart on fire. It sounds silly, but there's no other way to describe the flare of passion he ignites. _

_I want to be healthy, to be normal instead of "sick". I hate being handled gently, treated like I might shatter when those who refuse to touch me like I'm normal are depriving me of the sensation and stimulation that I so desperately need right now. Sometimes I wish no one knew about the things that are wrong with me, even though I know that would leave me with almost no motivation to heal._

_Falling back into my old routine has been comforting, reassuring. Giving it up will probably be much harder the second time, but I know that I can't live like this. The hard part is convincing myself that I want to live at all._

_At least now there is something worth feeling, even if it is completely forbidden. I don't think anyone can ever understand me the way he does. It's weird for him to offer something as inappropriate as a relationship with him as some sort of reward for becoming mentally healthy. I can't decide whether he's being disgustingly manipulative, or just doing anything he can to take care of me. It's a strange thing to have to wonder, but nothing is that normal anymore._

_One thing that's been getting under my skin a lot is the way Harry and Ron treat me like I'm a child, always avoiding sensitive topics of conversation around me. Harry won't even say "Voldemort" in front of me anymore, even though he hates it when people go out of their way to avoid saying the name._

_Not that they talk about that sort of thing in front of me, anyway. Why do they think I can't handle anything serious when what I'm going through is more serious than either of them can begin to comprehend?_


	35. Unfulfilled

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Please keep commenting! I love hearing what you think.

* * *

Hermione wasn't ready to eat a normal breakfast again just yet, but she at least ate considerably more than she had been allowing herself lately. Her stomach felt bloated and slightly uncomfortable, but she pushed her awareness of it to the back of her mind, knowing that learning to take care of her body again wasn't going to be easy. No one noticed the change in her portion sizes, since she had gradually accumulated a small arsenal of charms that allowed her to appear to eat without actually doing so. Banishing a mouthful of food without first spitting it out had been particularly hard to master, but the result was impressively convincing. Her ability to use nonverbal spells had certainly come a long way.

Snape caught up with her as she headed back toward her room. Her first class didn't start for another hour, and she was hoping to catch a few moments of peace before the forceful current of the day started to push her relentlessly forward. She glanced over at him. He looked back at her, but did not speak, even though he had walked beside her long enough to establish that his presence was not coincidental.

"Do you need something, Professor?" She tried not to sound irritated.

"Just a word, Hermione." They stopped in front of her room, standing awkwardly just outside.

"Um, would you like to come in?"

"That won't be necessary. I wanted to speak with you about a certain book you have in your possession."

"The one you gave me?" This made her a little nervous. Was he going to ask her to give it back? Ask to see how much she had been writing in it?

He nodded. "You are aware that the contents are unreadable to anyone aside from yourself."

She nodded.

"The book weighs very little, and won't take up much space in your bag. Even should someone glace over your shoulder as you write on the pages, strong enchantments will render your writing absolutely illegible to prying eyes. I strongly suggest that you carry the book with you, as it could provide an outlet for you in times of strong emotional stress. During these times, you may also come to me, provided I am not teaching a class or otherwise engaged. Please only disrupt my classes in the case of an emergency you feel that only I can handle."

She nodded, amazed that he had given her permission to go to him with her problems.

"Keep the book with you. Write in it as you see fit. If you feel the need to do so discreetly during class, all of your professors have been instructed to allow it. You're struggling with a lot of complicated things right now, Hermione. It's important that you do everything you can to not only gain awareness of your thoughts and feelings, but also strive to better understand them. That is all I wanted to discuss."

Her hand drifted toward him by itself, fingertips grazing the rich, heavy fabric of robes that billowed out behind him when he turned and left.

Hermione slid into her room. She still had a while left before class, and writing stuff down did seem like a good idea. She sat on her bed and pulled out the journal. Knowing no one else would ever read it, she didn't even bother dating her entries, instead simply jotting down whatever popped into her head.

_I know I should tell someone about what I've been doing to avoid eating, but I can't stand the thought of being so completely cornered that I have to eat every single thing someone else thinks might be a good idea. How can they understand my body, what it needs? I admit that I haven't been taking care of it the way I should, but surely it's better for me to come to an understanding on my own. _

_Anyway, I doubt it would help. If I found myself in that position, it would only be a matter of time before I found some other way. Maybe I'd even manage to do it wandless, eventually. Who knows. _

She sighed, slamming the book shut. No point in being late for Charms. Hermione shoved her books into her bag, knowing the next hour would be hard. She stood with the crowd outside the room, filing in and taking her usual seat between Ron and Harry. As Professor Flitwick babbled on at the front of the room, Harry shot her a questioning stare.

Hermione pretended not to notice.

Harry kept looking. When the time came for the students to practice the new charm, he spoke to her, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it.

"Hermione," Harry said, brilliant green eyes staring intensely into her flushed face, "I know I might not know everything about what you're going through right now, or even how to help you cope, but I care about you, and if you ever need anything, no matter what, you know you can come to me."

"Um, thanks, Harry." She muttered, blushing. He was being a wonderful friend to her, at least, the best she could hope for considering his level of maturity.

As class let out, she felt his hand lightly gliding against her lower back as they walked to the door. The look in his eyes seemed almost wistful when they headed in different directions.

Harry was by her side again in Potions, completely oblivious to the way his proximity to Hermione allowed Snape to stand inches away from her without drawing suspicion. This made her unimaginably tense, and her clumsiness earned her another detention.

Dinner for Hermione was miserable. Moments after she had found a relatively discreet seat on the bench, Harry plopped down next to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body.

"Hermione," he murmured as his left hand brushed her right hand, though no one else seemed to notice his soft voice, "you know I've been through a lot of terrible things, too. You can talk to me."

She beamed at him, "Thanks, Harry!" and prayed that he would think she was alright.

He didn't pursue the subject, but his body remained close to hers, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his skin. Hermione did not dare attempt to try to steal a glance at the staff table, though she could feel Snape's eyes burning into her back.

She wondered why he was watching her. She couldn't help but hope that the way Harry leaned toward her made Snape burn with anger. Moments later, Ron plopped down across from them, drawing Harry into a heated discussion about Quidditch tactics. Still, Hermione knew Harry was watching her. She struggled to eat a reasonable amount while anxiety twisted her stomach into knots.

Hermione knew she should have eaten more, but she couldn't stand another moment of Harry's intent gaze, and Ron was starting to notice that something was amiss.

She stood from the table. "Erm, I'd better go deal with my detention. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Hermione," Harry implored, "why don't you meet us in the common room tonight when you get done with your detention. We can just sit and talk, like we used to."

She smiled at him sadly. "I'd love to, Harry, but I'm feeling pretty tired. I think I'll probably want to get some rest after I'm done putting up with Snape."

"Well, if you change your mind…"

"Sure. If I'm not too tired, I'll stop by."

His hand caught hers as she started to walk away. "Remember we're always here for you."

Ron, who looked a bit uncomfortable with the current topic of conversation, smiled nervously at her. "Yeah. Let us know if there's anything we can do."

The dimly lit hallways winding toward the dungeons felt particularly cold. Hermione shivered, pulling her robe tighter and wishing she had time to stop at her room and change into something warmer. She hoped the castle was just cold tonight; she knew feeling cold again wasn't a good sign.

She raised her hand, hesitating for a moment before rapping her fragile knuckles on the heavy door.

"Enter." Snape's voice carried no emotion, and she wondered what the night would hold.

He was sitting quietly at his desk, bent over a stack of essays. He didn't look up until she was standing before him.

The dark depths of his piercing eyes left her speechless for a moment, but after waiting for him to say something and hearing nothing, Hermione finally spoke.

"I think it might be best if I serve this detention with someone else, Sir."

He raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"I don't think we should spend any more time together than we have to after what happened. It distracts us both and only makes things harder."

"I wish you wouldn't fight so hard to pull away. I want to be there for you, even though I don't think it would be appropriate for me to court you at this time. It would be wrong for me to rush into a relationship with you when you're learning so much about yourself right now. We have to be patient, Hermione."

She pouted, even though she knew it was childish. She didn't want to be held, loved, and kissed in some intangible future. She wanted to be loved now, touched now, fucked now. Even though her body was growing weaker her hormones raged uncontrollably, blurring her thoughts and making her want to climb over the desk into his lap and demand what her body so desperately craved.

Instead she just nodded, refusing to acknowledge the unshed tears that stung her eyes.

She pulled out the journal, scribbling in it frantically, hoping he would know she was writing about him, hoping it would make him angry or curious, hoping it would evoke some reaction.

_I hate this. He won't even touch me even though I want it more than anything. I have never felt so alone and I would fucking kill for someone to reach out and touch me, just to let me know I'm real._

_Sometimes I wonder if when I cut myself, I'm just trying to feel enough to make sure I'm still alive. Everything around me feels so far away._

She stole a furtive glance in his direction, but he just waited patiently for her to finish, making no effort to read the word scrawled across the page.


	36. Revelation

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

As frustrated as Hermione felt with her Professor's refusal to get too close to her (at least in the way she wanted the most), she couldn't deny the trust she was starting to feel for him. Even though his constant and impressive awareness of her made her kind of uncomfortable, it was a little bit reassuring knowing there was someone watching out for her. She liked that he didn't force himself into her life, or nag at her about every meal, yet she still knew that if she started to lose control, he would be there to protect her from herself.

She knew it was silly to think such things at her age, but Hermione couldn't help but hope that he'd _always_ be there. And oh, how she craved the day he would embrace her like a man embraces a woman, trading thrilling caresses for the protective comfort he offered her now.

She pushed her breakfast around on the plate. Her stomach still tightened at the smell of food, though she forced herself to keep eating.

"Hullo, Hermione." Luna smiled from across the table. She had taken to sitting at the Gryffindor table, even when, like today, Ginny wasn't present.

"Hi Luna." She had always thought Luna just sat near her because Ginny did, but with the amount of space everyone but Neville, Ginny, and Luna now tended to give her, it was painfully obvious that Luna's seating choice was intentional.

"Having a bit of a rough morning?" Luna asked brightly, smiling and inhaling the scent of the orange in her hands.

"Huh?"

"I mean with the eating and everything."

"Yeah, fine." This was getting very uncomfortable.

"I used to do it too, you know?"

"Do what?" Hermione tried to keep her hands from shaking, and glanced furtively around to make sure no one was watching.

"Starve myself. It was quite a difficult adjustment when I came to Hogwarts. I think you might have gathered that I'm not very popular."

Stunned, Hermione gave a slight nod before Luna continued.

"Well I guess I just started grasping at anything I could think of that would make me fit in. The other girls in my year were dieting, so I did it too. They were impressed, at first, with my willpower, but in the end they just decided I was a freak." She smiled and sighed. "I realized that I couldn't do anything to force others to like me, eventually, but of course the seed was already planted. You know how those habits linger. You just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, day after day, no matter how badly you want to stand still, or to turn and run in the wrong direction. You have to force every movement until one day, you find yourself moving forward without so much effort, and after a while, it starts to feel just as natural for you as it does for anyone else. I can't tell you how relieved I am that you've actually started swallowing your food again instead of just vanishing it. I was starting to get very worried."

"How did you-?"

"Hermione, you're very clever, and it's almost impossible to tell, but I do know what to look for. Don't worry, I won't tell. I know this is a choice you have to make yourself. But if you ever need to talk…" She smiled encouragingly.

"Um, thanks, Luna." Hermione was completely stunned.

"Well," Luna said standing up and grabbing a slice of toast, "I'd better stop by the Library to see how Ginny's essay is going. I'll see you at lunch."

Luna skipped brightly out of the room, as though they had discussed nothing more serious than the weather. Hermione felt better knowing she wasn't alone, and grateful that Luna understood well enough not to spread rumors and make things worse. It was also comforting to know that if she needed to confide in someone, she could without being lectured and berated over habits she already understood were self-destructive.

She managed to eat a little more than usual. Luna's comments had been shockingly insightful. Hermione hoped the girl had been right about it getting easier, that the time would come when she could think in terms of meals instead of being painfully aware of the effort behind every single bite.

And in a part of her that had felt empty for a very long time, the first tendrils of hope crept forward, promising to blossom into something meaningful, if she let them.

The more she thought about it, the more Hermione began to realize that her eating habits weren't the only part of her life that had been neglected. She was doing passably well in school, but hadn't been attacking her work with the enthusiasm and zeal she put into it when she had more energy. And her social life was almost non-existent now. And when she viewed things objectively, it became clearer that she had done more to create her isolation than those around her, that Harry and Ron, for example, had been trying to talk to her for weeks. Maybe she was the one who really couldn't let go of what had happened.

She was the first to arrive at Charms, and saved a seat on either side of her for Ron and Harry. They looked a little baffled, but plopped down quickly, as if the offer might be rescinded at any moment.

"Morning, boys." She said cheerfully. Ron gaped a little, but Harry recovered quickly enough to form a coherent response.

"Hey, Hermione. How are you?"

"Pretty good. There's a hole in my left sock that's driving me mental, though. I hope I have time to stop at my room before my next class and change it. What about you?"

He beamed at her, easily recognizing her attempt at making conversation. Ron's ears reddened a little when she said the word 'mental', but he, too, was eager to strengthen the tentative bonds she was trying to form.

"Starving!" Ron said, "I missed breakfast." As soon as the words escaped, he looked horrified. Hermione wanted to let him know that he had done nothing wrong, but Harry thankfully steered the conversation elsewhere before she spent too long fumbling for the right words.

"We were up late playing wizard's chess. Ron beat me six bloody times before he let me go to sleep. You really have to come play against him sometime. You're the only one who ever manages to beat him, and since you haven't been around to put him in his place, his head's getting awfully big!"

"_My_ head's getting big?" Ron asked, stunned. "How can you say that? I see the way you look when all those girls giggle at you. Fucking ridiculous!"

Hermione smiled. Most of the class had arrived and been comfortably situated by now, and some were looking at her with interest. She didn't mind the stares just now, though. She knew she was finally taking steps to get her friends back, and that it would make getting through the day infinitely easier to have Harry and Ron by her side again, like they used to be.

Luckily, Professor Flitwick arrived before she had to find more to talk about. There was so much she wanted to say to them, but she found that most of it was too overwhelming to bring up yet. Instead, she put all of her energy into the basic conjuring spells that were the focus of the lesson. Professor Flitwick noticed the extra effort and was exceptionally pleased with her work.

Transfiguration was a little harder because Professor McGonagall did little to disguise her delight at Hermione's slight improvement, but the girl simply reminded herself that revealing how uncomfortable the extra attention made her would only draw more.

Lunch came with slightly less dread than usual. Harry and Ron sat on either side of her, staring back defiantly at any curious glances, and making friendly, but not overly nosy conversation. Luna and Ginny sat across from them.

"So, Ginny," Hermione asked, "did you finish that essay you were working on this morning?"

Ginny nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. "Yeah, but you know  
I was up all bloody night because of it. I'm starting to think you have the right idea about Divination after all…" She sat close to Luna, whose silvery blonde hair reached out in tiny wisps that entangled with Ginny's auburn strands. The boys seemed oblivious to their proximity, but Hermione was amazed by the daringness of even such a small display of public affection between two girls who shared such an intimate bond.

"Hey, Hermione, d'you think you could take a look at my astrology paper? My grades have taken a dive since you were… well, anyway, my mum's rather pissed with me and it'd be great if you could help."  
"Sure, Ron."

She hadn't meant right now, but he was excitedly pulling the parchment out of his bag and handing it to her. She smiled indulgently as she reached out to take it.

Ron froze, eyes widening. Hermione looked at him for a moment, puzzled, before following his gaze to where her sleeve had slid up, revealing the angry red lines she kept so carefully hidden.

"Hermione! What-"

Ginny interrupted him with a surprised squeak as Luna dove in for a breath-stealing kiss, leaving Harry and Ron both gaping.

"Ginny!" Ron yelled, "Mum's going to kill you!"

"Oh no she won't," Ginny intoned softly, with a murderous glare, "Because if you tell her, I'll hex you so hard _you_ won't be giving her any grandchildren either."

Harry laughed. Ron looked aghast as his little sister glared and pressed her lips to Luna's again, blushing slightly with the awareness that conversation in the Great Hall had died down and almost everyone was gaping at them.

Rumors spread fast at Hogwarts, so of course by the end of breakfast every last student (and most of the staff) knew Ginny and Luna were an item. Their classmates were surprisingly supportive, many claiming they had known or suspected as much all along. The only real trouble came when they were walking to lunch and a 6th year Slytherin boy planted a firm smack on Luna's rump before wriggling his eyebrows and suggesting they let him "join the fun sometime".

Ginny sent him promptly to the Hospital wing, punching him hard in the gut before cursing him with horrible, oozing acne on every inch of his body. He refused to tell anyone what had happened (as his attacker had been a 4th year girl, and a Gryffindor at that), so Ginny was not punished. After that, no one dared to question their relationship, though many eyes followed them curiously in the halls.


	37. Green Eyes

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Life was finally starting to get easier for Hermione, and she was all too aware of Luna's role in this. The distraction she'd provided at lunch was simply brilliant, and Ginny didn't even seem upset about it. Actually, Ginny seemed relieved that their relationship was no longer a secret. Hermione wondered how anyone could possibly not be fond of Luna.

She supposed it had something to do with the girl's bluntness, or her eerie ability to pick up on just what someone was trying to hide, or maybe that her head was always in the clouds… But Hermione was growing to like these things about her. Luna was painfully perceptive, but she kept her discoveries to herself.

Severus was becoming constantly more aware of Hermione, but in a different way. The girl finally seemed to be getting stronger, to be attacking life with some of the passion that had come so easily to her in the past. And as she gained weight back at a painstakingly slow pace, his thoughts about her grew even more… _disturbing. _

Hermione was so engrossed in conversation with Ron and Harry as they left Potions that day that Professor Snape had to address her twice to get her attention.

"Miss Granger!" He barked, finally putting a stop to their animated conversation.

Hermione gave him a puzzled look.

For a moment, his head spun. Had she forgotten everything that had grown between them? What if it really was just her illness that made her desperate for the closeness she sought with him? The notion was shockingly painful.

Still, he pressed on. "I was hoping you might assist me with a potion tonight after dinner. I could use an extra set of hands." He wanted to laugh at his overly casual approach, but she quickly agreed.

Harry and Ron looked puzzled, but she quickly launched into a discussion of the impact academic work performed outside of class could have upon ones future. They were bored enough by her little speech that they didn't bring it up again.

That was when it occurred to her. She had been handling things wrong the whole time. Instead of pushing them away when they probed too deeply, all she had to do was shift the direction of the conversation to something that would provoke a swift retreat. Quite simply, instead of pulling away from them when they pushed too hard, she had to encourage _them_ to pull away from _her. _The awkward conversation could be ended without deepening the rift between them.

Hermione was more than a little surprised when Harry invited her to go for a walk on the grounds before dinner, especially since Ron was busy studying for an Herbology quiz. Still, she was strangely flattered by the attention, and the snow-covered grounds were surprisingly warm for the time of year.

They walked in silence for a while, and when he finally spoke, it was in a calm, but serious voice.

"Hermione, if you're ready to talk about it, I'd like to know what happened."

She didn't have to ask what he meant by that. He wanted to know why she had stopped eating, why one of his best friends had been wasting away before his eyes and there was no easy way to stop it. She wasn't sure what to say, but she felt that after everything they'd been through together, she owed him an explanation.

"I don't... I don't really know where to start, Harry."

"Start at the beginning. Why did you do this?"

"If I knew why, it would be much easier for me to heal. It just sort of… happened."

Harry looked a little frustrated, but his tone stayed calm. "When did it start?"

"I guess it started at the end of summer… that night we went out drinking."

Harry looked as though he'd just been slapped in the face. "That bloke… out behind the bar… I did stop him in time, didn't I?"

"Yes!" she flushed, "it was nothing like that."

"Then what was it?"

"Are you really sure you want to know?"

"Hermione, I want to know everything." The sincerity burning in his bright jade eyes made her stomach flip inside her body.

"Well, I guess I started thinking before we even went out… My jeans were a little snug."

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" Hermione felt instantly defensive.

"Honestly?"

"Just tell me, Harry."

"Those jeans drove me mad. If only you knew how they made your bum look… Poor Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets the first time you turned your back!"

"What? You and Ron said I hardly even count as a girl to you!"

"Well, you didn't before, but things change, Hermione."

He took her hand, and his warm fingers felt good wrapped around hers.

Hermione blushed. "Anyway, then when we were on the train, all you could talk about were other girls, and what was I supposed to think?"

Harry looked a bit abashed. "Sorry. Raging hormones. It's kind of where our minds were, and it's not like we were going to say anything about you with you sitting right there."

Well, she guessed that made sense.

The sun was sinking low against the lake, throwing fiery reds and oranges over the grounds. The crisp winter air bit into her cheeks, and she could feel them growing pinker by the moment.

"Wow," she said, "it's getting cold out."

"Do you want to go inside?"

"No, not yet."

Harry wrapped an arm around her. "Don't want you to freeze." He smiled at her. His smile made her feel so vulnerable. Everyone wanted to get close to him, to get inside the mind of the "Boy Who Lived", yet for some unfathomable reason he had chosen her to stand by his side through everything life threw at him. Maybe, Hermione mused, he saw something in her that she didn't. Maybe she was stronger than she thought.

And she wanted to be strong for him. He was everyone's last hope, after all. And he had chosen her, for reasons she could never understand.

Harry looked at her, and she felt naked under his searching gaze, until he finally spoke.

"So then what happened?"

"Well…" She didn't want to talk about it, but after all he'd been through, Harry deserved the truth. If anyone could handle it, she thought, he could.

"I was careful at the start of term feast. I just wanted my pants to be a bit less snug, I think. But I ate a little less at every meal, until eating was a weakness to me, something I wanted to avoid at all costs. And every day I got weaker, but the worst part was that every time I looked in the mirror, my loose skin mimicked fat and I felt as though I had failed."

Harry stopped, and stared into her eyes. She could tell he was on the verge of tears. Then he threw his arms around her, and his tight embrace felt so warm and so safe, she could do nothing but lean in and let him hold her. She wished she had realized a long time ago how compassionate he could be, even with someone who was losing her bloody mind…

Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought she felt his lips ghosting across her cheek as he pulled away. He smiled at her.

"We'd better get to dinner." He said, "I don't think there's much chance Ron's going to wait for us if we're late."

"Oh," Hermione laughed, "he'll eat for the whole hour if he can."

Their conversation was lighter as they walked back to the castle, but when they reached the entrance, Harry had one more question to ask Hermione.

"So, that thing with Ginny and Luna… Is it real, or was it just a diversion to keep Ron from going mental on you over those cuts?"

"Well," Hermione admitted, "they did save my ass, there's no denying that. But there's definitely something going on between those two. I think Ginny's crush on you has officially bit it."

Harry sighed with relief, and they entered the Great Hall together. Before they sat down, he caught her arm, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear,

"Hermione, I know you hurt yourself, in more ways than one. If you ever need someone to talk to, you know that I'm here for you, right?"

She beamed and nodded, and they took their seats at the table.

If Ron knew something important had transpired between Hermione and Harry, he hid it masterfully. He stuffed food in his mouth, and talked about Quidditch like he always did, and for a while things felt almost _normal._

Dinner went by faster than any meal Hermione had eaten in a long time, and she had barely banished any of the food that went into her mouth. She felt uncomfortable, but oddly confident as she approached the dungeons. She knocked twice on the Potion Master's door, and his voice responded, clear and emotionless,

"Enter."

She moved into the room slowly, and was surprised to find that he was brewing nothing.

"Professor, did you need assistance with something?"

He chuckled. "Hermione, I was hoping that for tonight, we could just talk."

And so she followed him to his private quarters, stomach full of butterflies, wondering what could possibly happen next.

They sat on opposite ends of his sofa in front of a roaring fire, and his onyx eyes blazed into hers.

"How are you?" He asked, and the sincerity in his voice tugged at something inside her.

"I'm… better, actually. I've been trying to take care of myself the way I should."

"You look better." He murmured. His eyes were on fire, travelling slowly over her body so intensely she writhed as if being caressed.

She smiled, shyly, and he fought hard not to ask about Potter, about where they had vanished to before dinner. It would be highly inappropriate for her teacher to be concerned about her love life. He had no right to stake any sort of claim on her, and he knew it. If she could be happy with Harry, he had to let her go, because he loved her enough to want a healthy life for her.

Still, a part of him wrenched in agony when he thought of the one other woman he had ever had feelings like this for.

His dreams that night were haunted by images of Lily, of James pulling her from Severus' desperate embrace. The scene played again and again in his mind, until he realized that, at some point, James had become Harry and it was no longer Lily being torn from Severus' arms…


	38. Rumors

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione was surprised, and, if she was honest with herself, a little disappointed that Professor Snape hadn't touched upon the topic of their relationship during the odd and awkward meeting the night before. She had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that since she was gaining weight again he would consider thinking of her more in the way she thought of him. She would just have to be patient, she told herself.

Hermione was pleased to discover that Harry and Ron had saved her a seat at breakfast. After how long she'd been pushing them away, she was worried it would take time for them to accept her again, but they were doing their best to be warm and understanding.

It was a little easier now not to steal glances at Professor Snape across the hall, since she was eating and talking with her friends instead of simply stuffing food in her mouth and silently banishing it while pretending to chew. She could still feel him, she thought, every time he looked at her. If this was the case, his eyes were on her a lot. The thought thrilled her, improbable as it seemed.

Ron was still a little awkward around her, but during meals he easily disguised this by shoving food in his mouth whenever he was unsure what he should say. He frequently stared at Luna, looking baffled and sometimes a bit angry. Luna grinned back at him every time, and seemed to slowly be winning him over.

Even though life was starting to get better, Hermione missed Severus. She missed the way he had taken care of her when she fell apart, tenderly helping her pick up the pieces. She still resented that he had turned his back on her so suddenly when she was so far from being well again, but the more she thought about it, the easier it was to understand.

She had never known him to be close to anyone, and a lot of unspoken things had passed between them during the time she spent in his care. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what would be done with her now if something went wrong, if she had some sort of relapse or was caught hurting herself.

After all, she did still, on occasion, start to feel overwhelmed. Sometimes, it was more than she could handle, and she would resort to cutting herself to quell the intensity of her emotions. She took better care of the wounds now, and the episodes were starting to become less frequent, but still, it was an uncomfortable secret she had to keep hidden.

Hermione frequently wondered now about the girl she had walked in on cutting herself in the bathroom months ago. She almost wanted to talk to her, but had no idea how one would go about initiating a conversation on such a delicate subject. Certainly she would never tell the girl that she had inadvertently planted the seed in Hermione's mind that would lead them to have such a thing in common, but if Hermione had cut herself before the day she walked in, or had ever even given the idea much thought, would she have reacted the way she did?

First hour she had Charms with Ron and Harry. Harry talked to her excitedly about an upcoming Quidditch match while Ron lagged behind slightly, trying to scrawl a few concluding sentences on the parchment that was due in ten minutes. She happily allowed her mind to drift while Harry chattered happily beside her, until he asked a question that almost made her stop dead in her tracks.

"So, what are you doing over the holiday break?"

Hermione hadn't really thought about that. She had always gone home to see her parents before, but now, she couldn't bear the thought. They knew, vaguely, about her situation, but never mentioned it in the letters they sent her. Indeed, they seemed to be more uncomfortable discussing that particular subject than she was. Could she bear going home in her current state? She was doing better, but she was still pale and thin, and if they saw those cuts…

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron had stuffed his assignment in his bag and was now keeping pace with them. She thought she must look fairly distressed for him to have noticed.

"Actually," she said, "I think I'll stay at Hogwarts this year."

Both boys shot her looks suggesting they clearly thought her mad. Hesitantly, she continued. "Well, I with our OWLs coming up I want to do some extra studying. I'd suggest the two of you do the same." She narrowed her eyes accusingly, and they were more than happy to change the subject

She was a bit distracted in class, unsure how she could convince her parents to let her stay at Hogwarts over break, but positive that was what she wanted. Once she had accomplished the charm they were learning and helped Ron execute it passably well a few times, she scrawled a note to her parents,

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_Things are going pretty well at school. I've been really busy studying for my exams and I was wondering if it would be okay with you if I stay at Hogwarts over break this year. The library has a lot of very helpful books I wouldn't have access to otherwise, and I'm sure as soon as the semester starts I'll be too busy to spend much time going through them._

_There is another thing, too. I think Harry's staying over break, and I'm a little worried about leaving him here alone. He hasn't been quite right since what happened with Cedric…_

_Anyway, I hope you're both well and I miss you a lot! Please let me know if it's alright with you for me to stay._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

As far as she knew, Harry wasn't actually staying over the holiday this year, but she thought her parents might be more agreeable if they thought she wouldn't be spending too much time by herself. The bit about studying did make sense, and she hoped they wouldn't be too upset.

Hermione folded the parchment as class drew to a close. She paused when she, Harry, and Ron reached the hall.

"I'm going to owl my parents before lunch. I'll meet you guys there in a few minutes." She said, holding up the parchment.

"Right then, see you at lunch." Ron was staring past her down the hall at Lavender, whose skirt looked several inches shorter than the standard uniform. She was kneeling on the floor, picking up scattered contents of the bag she had dropped.

"Actually," Harry said, "I've been meaning to send out a letter myself. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure. You go ahead, Ron. We'll see you in a bit." Ron was racing to help Lavender with her bag before Hermione had finished her sentence. She could only think of one person Harry would be contacting using a school owl, but she decided to avoid the subject unless he brought it up himself.

As they climbed the winding stairs to the owlery, she was shocked to feel his warm hand envelop hers. She shot him a curious sideways glance, but he kept looking straight ahead, cheeks slightly pink. She wanted to thank him for being so supportive of her lately, but wasn't sure what to say without making things terribly awkward.

As they watched the owls fly away, Harry turned to her.

"Hermione, I understand if you don't want to talk to me about it, but what's going on with your parents?"

"Nothing's going on, Harry. I just want to do some extra studying."

"We both know you could study at home if you wanted to. You've always gone home over break before."

"Things with them have just been a little strained since… well, you know. I think it'd just be easier for them and for me if I don't see them again until summer, when I'll hopefully be doing much better."

"Hermione, almost no one is going to be here. I don't think it'll be good for you to spend that much time alone."

"I'll be fine, Harry. I think Luna might be staying over break, too, and even if she isn't, I could really use some peace and quiet."

He sighed. "If that's really what you want."

He didn't hold her hand as they walked to lunch together, but still he stood close enough that sometimes, his arm brushed lightly against hers. His touch was warm and comforting, like a favorite blanket on a rainy night. It was almost enough to make Hermione feel safe.

It struck her as a little odd when he started walking her to classes that he wasn't taking with her, but she was glad they were friends again. He was easy to talk to, and they talked about everything that didn't hurt, which felt good. Hermione wasn't the only one who noticed the extra effort on his part, and she was shocked by some of the rumors that have started to spread.

Snape picked on Harry even more than usual, and Hermione forced herself to believe she didn't know why, though a tiny knowing voice in her head kept whispering a warning. This was not good.

When it was time for the class to partner up, Hermione instinctively reached for Harry, but her professor's hard dark eyes were on her as he spat,

"For today's assignment, I'll be choosing your partners." There was a chorus of groans as he started listing off names. Most of the pairings had one student from each house, though he paired Harry with Neville (probably, Hermione thought bitterly, hoping something would go terribly wrong with their potion). Ron was paired with Pansy and seemed to be torn between fascination and disdain. She was a Slytherin, but an admittedly attractive one. Hermione was paired off last. She shot Severus an angry glare when she realized she was stuck with Draco. He almost looked remorseful. Honestly, it had been unintentional- they had been the last two left because they had been the two he was trying hardest not to think about. The Malfoy brat had been getting on his nerves lately. He regretted inflicting the boy's company on Hermione, even if a part of him did feel a bit betrayed because of what was going on with Harry.

Hermione did her best to appear unfazed as she took her place beside him at the cauldron.

"I'll prepare the ingredients, you just have to add them at the right time unless you'd prefer something else." She hoped her voice didn't betray the anxiousness she felt when she looked into his cold gray eyes.

"Whatever."

For a while, both were silent as she chopped, diced, and crushed ingredients. Their potion was undergoing all of the appropriate transformations and Hermione was feeling somewhat optimistic about the assignment until she heard his smug, quiet voice in her ear.

"So, is it true, Granger?"

"Shut up and do the work, Malfoy."

"You know," he said, leaning in closer and speaking more softly still, "they say it's a muggle disease."

Hermione looked at him, startled. "What's a muggle disease?"

"Anorexia. I have to say I'm surprised even Potter would go for that sort of thing. A little sick, don't you think?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The fierceness with which she attacked the erumpant horn she was grinding betrayed her tension.

"Oh, I think you do. I think everyone does. You got awful thin this year, Granger. Or maybe you're bulimic? I see you eating but you never gain much weight. Do you just go puke it all up after?"

Something inside Hermione snapped.

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" She punched him, hard, in the stomach, snatching up her bag and knocking over their cauldron as she stormed out of the room.


	39. Punishment

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Severus didn't know what the smug little brat had said to Hermione, but he was pretty sure Draco had earned his bloody nose. He was more than a little miffed when Potter dashed out behind her, ignoring his warnings and hefty house point deductions.

Hermione had seen the look on Harry's face as she stormed out, and wasn't particularly surprised when she heard his sneakers hitting the stone floor as he ran to catch up with her. She sighed. He'd been playing Quidditch religiously since first year. There was no way she could outrun him if she tried, so she slowed her pace and waited for him to catch up, brushing away the tears that streamed down her face and composing herself as well as she could before she heard his voice, only a few feet behind her.

"What did he say?" Harry demanded.

"It doesn't matter, Harry. Can we just drop it?"

"I'm going to slaughter him."

"No, please. I shouldn't have punched him. it'll only make things worse if you draw more attention to what happened."

"You want me to just let that go?" He sounded shocked.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want. He was only trying to get a rise out of me, or to get more fodder for those awful rumors that have been going around since I…" It was still hard to talk about having tried to take her own life. Harry, seeming to understand, didn't force Hermione to continue.

"Fine." She found the dull resignation in his voice reassuring. He put his arm around her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Will you walk me to my room and tell Snape I'm taking the rest of the day off? I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Sure." He hugged her closer and they walked on in silence until they got to the portrait. He stood there, a little awkwardly.

"Erm, Harry?" His vivid eyes were slightly unfocused, making tiny quick movements, as though watching an intense silent debate in his head. Hermione's sense of unease was growing. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, just worried about you."

"I'll be fine." She assured him. He kept standing there. After a short pause, she asked, "Do you want to come in for a minute?"

He nodded and followed her into the room.

"It's nice." He commented, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She agreed, still watching him a bit warily.

"You really are very pretty, even when you've been crying."

Her sense of dread increased as he leaned toward her, brushing a stray chestnut strand out of her face. When their lips met she was too stunned to stop him, and sat stock still while his tongue pushed into her mouth. It was a tender kiss, and not entirely unpleasant, but it made her insides squirm with discomfort. When her body didn't respond to his advances, Harry pulled away.

"Sorry," he muttered, staring intently at the floor, "I should go."

"Can we talk about what just happened?"

He sighed. "I guess we probably have to."

"I didn't think you felt that way about me."

"It was stupid. Can we please forget it ever happened?"

"Don't be upset. I love you a lot, Harry, but not in that way."

"I feel the same way about you."

"Then why did you just kiss me?"

"I don't know. We've both been through a lot and I thought being together like that made sense. I feel a lot closer to you than I do to Ron, and I wondered what kissing you would be like."

"What was it like?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Honestly?"

"Was it bad?"

"I imagine it's about how Ron would feel if he stuck his tongue in Ginny's mouth."

"That's disgusting!"

"It felt really weird, Hermione."

She had to agree with his assessment. From an objective standpoint, Harry was bright, attractive, and charismatic, but when she looked at him, even now, she still saw echoes of the boy she had grown close to first year. Thinking of him in a sexual manner, if she was honest with herself, grossed her out.

"Um, I guess I should get back to class."

She nodded, glad he was finally leaving. "Thanks for walking me to my room and everything."

"No problem. If you need anything later, you know where to find me." He smiled at her warmly before leaving the room, and she fell back into her pillows, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.

A few hours later Ginny was in to check on her.

"Harry told me what happened."

"It wasn't a big deal."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I will be. I just don't want to deal with Malfoy again today." Ginny gave her a concerned look. "I'll be fine, I promise. I just need some time alone."

"If you say so." Hermione's dinner appeared on the desk.

"Luna's probably already in the Great Hall. You shouldn't keep her waiting."

The younger girl grinned at her friend. "Fine, I'll get out of your hair. I did have one more thing I wanted to bring up, though."

"What?" Hermione suddenly wondered just how much Harry had told Ginny.

"Malfoy had to go to the Hospital wing. You broke his nose in front of the entire class." She grinned. "About bloody time someone took him down a peg. I'm proud of you."

With that, she left. Hermione pushed her food around for awhile while it grew tepid and gross, finally just banishing it. She was surprised when, a few hours later, she heard a sharp knocking coming from the entrance that didn't lead to the common room.

She sighed. "Come in." The portrait swung open in response to her words, though she doubted the person on the other side could hear her. She was more than a bit shocked to see Professor Snape stepping into her room.

"How are you?" he asked seriously, without preamble. The depth and intensity of his stare made her a bit uncomfortable. She closed her book and patted the bed next to her, where Harry had sat only hours before.

"I'm fine. I wish everyone would stop asking." The soft mattress sunk beside her as he sat down.

"Everyone knows how poisonous the nasty prat can be."

"I thought you liked Malfoy."

He sighed, trying to think of the best way to explain the issue without putting Hermione in unnecessary danger. "Due to certain… _dealings_ I have with Lucius, I am forced to show Draco more courtesy than is necessarily due to him. Do you understand?"

She nodded, knowing better than to press the subject.

"I know it may be hard, but you should try to ignore him. He's a disturbed young man whose powerful family protects him from the consequences of most of his actions."

"Ignore him? You're the one who made me partner with him!" Hermione shot back hotly.

"For that, I apologize. I must say my mind was elsewhere when I assigned the pairings today."

"Why didn't you just let us work in our normal groups if you were feeling distracted?"

"I'd prefer if we didn't discuss that just now."

She sighed. "Fine. Is there anything else?"

"I'm afraid so. I know he was in the wrong, but I have to give you detention."

"_What?"_

"You have to understand," he pleaded, "you broke his nose in front of a room full of witnesses. Leaving your actions unpunished would be highly suspect, and I definitely couldn't discipline him without appearing to do the same to you."

Her eyes widened. "I have to serve detentions with _him_?"

"Hermione, it's only for a week, and I didn't have any other choi-"

"A _week?" _She couldn't have been more horrified. Even Severus's smooth composure suffered slightly beneath her withering stare.

"It won't be so terrible."

"You told me yourself you have to deal with his father! He'll spread all sorts of rumors if you're not horrid to me."

"I never said the detentions would be with me."

She looked murderous. "Filch?" She spat the name like an obscenity.

"No, Hagrid. I claimed to have other matters that needed to be addressed this week. He's not as daft as people think. He appreciates the position I'm in enough to know that Malfoy needs to pay for what happened but I can't show you any favoritism."

Hermione sighed. "Maybe that won't be so bad."

"Potter will be there too, tonight."

"What did Harry do?"

"He went running after you in the middle of class. I can't start being civil toward him out of the blue now, can I?"

She shook her head, still looking rather pissed off.

"And," he continued, eyes narrowing slightly, "he only got one night, despite the fact that it took Potter quite a long time to simply escort you back to your room."

Her cheeks reddened. She felt a wave of guilt over what had happened when Harry sat with her on the bed. Hermione realized Snape didn't have many other options, but she was still angry.

"You should probably get going." he said, looking slightly nervous.

"Wait, _tonight?_"

"I'm sorry." Seeing the look on his face, Hermione believed him. "It won't be so terrible. Draco claims he is still recovering from his injuries and will not be starting his week until tomorrow evening, so it will just be you and Potter."

"Fine."

"I should go. I'm supposed to be otherwise engaged tonight, and it would look bad if someone went to my office and found I wasn't there. Besides, Potter will be here to collect you shortly. Don't tell him I came."

Severus looked at her, and his stomach twisted with sadness and guilt. If he hadn't been so petty, none of this would be happening. She looked so tiny, so fragile. His stony façade was starting to crumble. He leaned toward her as he stood, and his lips brushed her forehead for a fraction of a second before he quickly left the room.

Hermione was braiding her hair like she normally did before bed, knowing a detention with Hagrid could involve any number of activities. She didn't get dressed because she would have no plausible explanation for knowing about detention before Harry's arrival. She sounded as surprised as she could when she heard his knock.

"Come in."

He clambered through the portrait, looking furious.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

"Greasy git gave us detention!"

"What did _you _do?"

"Left in the middle of class. He only gave me one night, though. He gave you a week!"

"Well, I did punch his little pet." Hermione said reasonably.

"Everyone there knew Malfoy was bothering the hell out of you." Harry fumed, starting to pace. "At least he gave Malfoy detention too. It won't be that bad, though. The nasty bat didn't fancy giving up his own time so he stuck Hagrid with us. I heard Malfoy isn't even coming tonight. You broke his nose, you know!" He grinned at her.

"Yes, Ginny told me."

"Oh. Well, you should probably get dressed."

She nodded and grabbed a thick sweater and some jeans before heading to the bathroom to change.

They walked to the hut in relative silence. Hermione was feeling a bit nervous about seeing Hagrid; she hadn't really been alone with him since her suicide attempt, and she imagined he would have some questions for her.

Hagrid waited at his door, beaming under his bushy beard. "I heard yeh broke Malfoy's nose."

Hermione nodded. She was already getting sick of this topic of conversation. She dreaded the next day. He led them inside.

"So," he said, trying to sound stern, "I didn't have enough notice to come up with somethin' fer you to do. I expect you to sit right here," he said, gesturing at his table, "and think about what you've done."

They sat down, unsure how to respond. After a moment of silence, Hagrid grinned. "Want some tea while yer being punished?"

They spent the rest of the night in animated conversation. Hagrid shot Hermione a few appraising looks, but seemed to notice her discomfort when they approached the subject of her illness, and steered the conversation in other directions. All in all, it was a rather enjoyable detention.


	40. Gravity

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Hermione groaned at the sunlight falling over her face. She knew she would have to get out of bed soon and get ready for class, but oh, how she dreaded it.

"You okay?" Ginny asked, voice muffled by her pillow.

"Peachy. Except for the detention with Malfoy I have tonight."

"Hermione, don't worry too much. At least it's with Hagrid and not the Greasy Bat."

"I guess you're right." But Hermione wouldn't mind a bit more time alone with her brooding Professor…

She ran a brush through her tangled chestnut hair and dressed, no longer concerned about whether Ginny saw her naked. As the younger girl grew closer to Luna, the tension created by her confession eased considerably.

Things with Harry weren't too bad, considering what had happened, and he was now actively denying the rumors that they were together, though his denials only added more fuel to the flame of suspicion.

The day melted away quickly with detention with Malfoy looming ahead, and she glanced at the blonde Slytherin often, though he seemed a bit intimidated by her icy stare.

She did her best to ignore Severus, but did send him a few loathing-filled glares at dinner. He looked truly remorseful, but Hermione enjoyed the thought that her anger affected him too much to simply let the matter go.

It made her wonder if she was sick in the head in more ways than one.

Finally, her knuckles were hitting the door to Hagrid's hut, and it was swinging open. She steeled herself, expecting Malfoy to have already arrived, since Hermione was almost late.

"Well," said Hagrid, feigning disappointment, "since it's time fer us to get started and Malf- er, Mister Malfoy, isn't here, I guess you'll be the one ter choose the punishment. I need one of yeh to grade some first-year papers, and one ter pick grubs off the pumpkins and mash them up. Happen to have a preference?"

Hermione sat down to grade papers, and when Malfoy arrived, a full twenty minutes after the scheduled start of detention, watched through the window as he picked the writhing, swollen grubs off of the large pumpkins in the back garden. Perhaps, she thought, this wouldn't be so terrible at all.

Meanwhile, Harry was having an especially interesting Occlumency session. Snape was being merciless, and very little time elapsed before he witnessed the kiss between Hermione and Harry. Jealousy bloomed in his veins, but he maintained a calm exterior.

Of course Potter had no idea why his mind was being so viciously attacked, but Severus was so violently invasive it wasn't long before the boy was trembling on the ground.

"Dismissed." Snape's cold voice bore no anger. "I believe, Potter, that you have set a new record for the speed at which you allowed yourself to become utterly useless."

Harry glared, but stood and left, barely able to walk on legs that felt like jelly.

It took Severus all of Friday night and a good part of Saturday to brace himself for what he had to do. He caught up with Hermione as she left dinner.

"Miss Granger, a word please."

Harry and Ron both looked at her, clearly concerned about the girls safety. She rolled her eyes and mouthed the word "bye". Satisfied that she wasn't facing imminent doom, they left as quickly as they could, eager to escape the intimidating presence.

"What's going on, Professor?" Hermione prayed he hadn't caught her vanishing a small amount of her food. She still hadn't stopped completely, and knowing Luna could tell made her worry that someone else might catch on.

"I think it would be best if we discussed this matter somewhere a bit less… _public._ Please come with me if you are not otherwise engaged."

She nodded, and he led her to the Potions classroom, then, much to her surprise, up through the secret staircase in the supply closet and into his private quarters.

"Please sit down." He indicated the couch in his study where she had awakened the day she fainted after class. Trying not to blush at the memories that came flooding back, Hermione sat. She was slightly disappointed when he fell gracefully into a chair instead of sitting beside her.

"Professor, is there a problem?"

"No," he said, certain that she could sense the emotion swelling within him, try as he may to hide it, "there was simply something I wanted to discuss."

She looked terribly nervous, and he thought she must already know what he wanted to discuss. He steeled himself, almost too overwhelmed to continue.

"Hermione," he was speaking in the soft voice that she often remembered and seldom heard, "I believe you are aware of Mister Potter's Occlumency lessons."

Somehow, Hermione managed to look relieved and alarmed at the same time. Weakly, she nodded.

"I doubt you will have trouble recalling the incident I witnessed when he failed to erect proper mental barriers."

"Sir I-"

"Please, let me finish. You know I am not fond of him, however, I fully support your decision. Allowing anything to develop between us would not be healthy, and I think it is for the best that you have moved on."

"No! Harry's my friend. Did you pay any attention to the conversation that came after?"

Embarrassed, he shook his head.

"I told Harry that I care for him very much, but not in that way. I told him that I'm not seeking a relationship right now, and we agreed that the bond between us should remain strictly platonic."

She could see the smile Severus suppressed, though she doubted anyone else would be able to detect it beneath his stony mask.

"Does that mean you no longer wish to pursue a relationship with me?" He already knew the answer, but he had to hear her say it.

"No. It means I'm not interested in pursuing one with anyone else."

Severus allowed a tiny bit of the joy flooding through him to show on his face. Hermione smiled back at him shyly, and he couldn't help but notice how innocent and untouched she looked. A part of him wanted to wrench himself away, to never let his body touch hers again, but at the same time, his mind swam with thoughts of taking that innocence, of kissing every inch of her body and make her cry out in voices that had never before escaped her virgin lips.

She looked slightly anxious, and Severus realized that he should have spoken by now, that too much time had elapsed while he enjoyed thoughts of what his body could do to hers. Words failed the man who almost always knew what to say. Instead of speaking, he simply rose and moved to the place beside her on the couch. Tentatively, she leaned closer to him, and he put his arm around her. They sat that way in silence for a long time, until finally she turned to face him and their eyes met.

She was leaning closer, this young girl he should never even think of touching, and before Severus could stop himself, his lips brushed lightly over hers and he felt her sharp intake of breath. He pulled her closer, trying to hold her, trying to stop his head from spinning the way it did in response to the intoxicating taste of her lips. Instead, he found her lips pressed hard against his, her tongue exploring his mouth with a feather-light touch.

He was positive now, that nothing had felt like this since he had loved Lily Evans. It was a terrifying thought, to say the least. He wanted to pull away, but instead he kissed her back, enjoying the tiny moans she couldn't quite contain. The impossible sweetness of forbidden fruit was something he understood better now than he had ever hoped to. Even though it was a Saturday, she wore her uniform, and it would be so easy to rest his hand on her bare knee, to caress her thigh and let his fingers slide beneath her pleated skirt.

He sat up, sliding his arm away from her shoulders and breaking all contact between their bodies.

"You know," she murmured, "Ginny wouldn't tell anyone if I came back late tonight, or even if I didn't make it back to my room at all…"

He was sorely tempted by her suggestion, but she was barely starting to recover, and Severus hadn't meant to so much as touch her tonight. Nothing more could happen between them until he felt sure she was stable. She was doing better now, of this he was certain, but he suspected that Hermione still had a long way to go before she could look at things the way others in her year saw them. To take advantage of her emotional state was simply out of the question. He was a patient man, and he would have to wait, though nothing had ever tempted him the way she tempted him now.

"I think," he said, keeping his voice steady despite the violent emotional currents flowing through him, "it would be best if I escort you to your room and allow you to get some rest." She looked much more disappointed than he had expected, but, gathering every last bit of resolve he could find, Severus stood and led her to the door that would take them out into the halls of Hogwarts.

When they reached the entrance to her room, Hermione drew close to him, tilting her face up as though she hoped he would kiss her. Filled with strange regret, Severus simply shook his head. Even if he considered such a gesture appropriate (he was still chastising himself for the previous lapse in judgment), someone could see them at any moment, and taking that risk would be nothing short of insane.

Hermione looked a bit saddened by his refusal of close contact, but she seemed to understand the position they both were in.

She murmured, "Until next time, Professor…" and vanished into her room.

"Where were you?" Ginny was sitting on her bed, looking undeniably excited.

"Just talking to Se- Professor Snape about making up some assignments."

"Don't be absurd, Hermione. No one else can hear us. Now tell me what really happened."

Hermione hesitated.

Ginny giggled. "In case you haven't noticed, I've managed to move on, so whatever you have going on right now, I'm happy for you. But you know I'll never repeat your secrets, even to Luna, who seems to guess much more about everyone than I could ever hope to know. Please, tell me what you talked about."

Hermione blushed. "Well, on Thursday… you know I stormed out of Potions after I punched Malfoy."

Ginny beamed and nodded.

"Harry followed me."

"Yeah, I heard he got detention for that."

"Only one night, but that's not the point. Harry walked me back here, and we sort of… he kissed me."

"He _what_?"

"I know. He was acting strange, but I had no idea he was thinking something like that."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Well, Se- Professor Snape sort of found out about what had happened, and thought I was going to be with Harry, or something."

"What did you tell him?"

"The same thing I told Harry. I'm not interested."

"What did he say?"

Hermione blushed scarlet. "He didn't say anything. He sat down next to me-"

"-Where were you?"

"In his quarters. I doubt he wanted to be overheard. May I continue, or do you have more questions?"

"Sorry. So he sat by you. What happened next?"

"We sort of kissed. Again."

"You never told me you kissed him!"

"Remember how I was having breakfast with him the day you told me you liked me?"

Ginny nodded.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't walk in."

"Sorry!"

"Don't be. There was no way you could've known. Anyway, this was the first time he's kissed me since. After the first time, he sort of freaked out, I guess. That was when he stopped having anything to do with me."

"Hermione, I had no idea…"

"I know. It's not a big deal."

"You should have told me. No wonder you got worse. I can't believe the bastard did that to you!"

"Ginny, please! He's as confused about this as I am, and I think my age bothers him a lot. Don't tell anyone you know, not even him."

Ginny sighed. "You know you can trust me."


	41. Progress

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione did everything she could at breakfast to avoid looking at the Head Table. Luna sat in her usual place, next to Ginny across from Hermione, watching with knowing blue eyes as the wand held beneath the table vanished each bite before Hermione swallowed. Once enough was gone from her plate, Hermione stood and turned to Harry.

"I need to grab a few things from the library before class."

"You do?" Luna spoke softly, "I wanted to do a bit of extra research for Charms. I'll go with you." She kissed Ginny quickly on the cheek and rushed to catch up with Hermione. As soon as they were alone together, the blonde stopped her friend.

"Why are you starving again?"

"It's just one meal, Luna. It doesn't make a difference."

"You know that's a lie."

"You barely know me!"

"I know myself, Hermione. I know what happens to me when I give in to those temptations, even a tiny bit. You're playing with fire, and don't even try to deny it."

Hermione had never seen such angry passion behind Luna's eyes. Luna plunged an arm into the depths of her stuffed, chaotic bag, and after a moment of searching, pulled out a muggle protein bar.

"Give me your wand." Luna said, thrusting the bar at Hermione.

"What? You know I need that for class."

"I'll give it back as soon as you're done eating."

"Luna, I'm going to be late!"

"I'll walk you to class and you can eat on the way. If you're worried about being late, don't fight me."

Hermione sighed, handed over her wand, and tore into the wrapper. She knew Luna was right, but it was still a bit annoying to know that the fey blonde was even more stubborn than she was.

The bar was vaguely chocolate flavored, but reminded Hermione of sawdust more than anything else. She mainly choked it down so that Luna would give back her wand. She also knew she'd be sure to eat something at lunch to avoid having to eat another disgusting bar. After the last swallow, Luna beamed and retrieved Hermione's wand from her pocket. Today, Hermione had Potions first. She was nervous about seeing Professor Snape, but his attitude toward her was so ordinary she wondered if the weekend's events had existed solely in her mind.

She was starting to do better, with everything, but she wanted to see him so badly, she was sorely tempted to ruin her potion on purpose in hopes of earning detention with him. When she remembered she was already due to see Hagrid that night, Hermione sighed.

The sample she turned in was, of course, perfect. Professor Snape's fingertips brushed Hermione's hand as she set the vial on the desk and left the room, sending a whirlwind of feeling through her body as she strode from the room with flawless composure.

Nights with Hagrid weren't bad. Hermione always managed to arrive before Draco (Harry's map let her keep an eye on him and make sure he wasn't leaving the castle first on a given night), and grading papers was actually somewhat soothing. Malfoy did arrive before Hermione on Saturday, but Hagrid shook his head and explained that since Hermione had graded papers all week, it would be most efficient to have her continue and for Draco to keep working in the garden, since his pasty aristocratic hands were finally starting to toughen and develop some nice calluses. He fumed and swore and promised to tell his father, but nothing ever came of his threats.

She was asked to meet with Dumbledore Sunday afternoon. She approached his office feeling somewhat apprehensive, but he was warm and welcoming as ever, offering her tea and fruit, quickly putting her at ease.

"I have been informed, Miss Granger, that you will be staying at Hogwarts during the holiday."

Hermione nodded.

"You are aware that most students and staff go home during this time, so I feel obligated to ask you, is there something making you want to avoid going home?"

"No, sir."

A silver eyebrow arched questioningly and piercing blue eyes bored into soft brown until she felt compelled to speak again.

"Things with my parents have been a bit… Well, uncomfortable, since they were informed of the issues I've been having this term. I think it'd be more comfortable for me and for them if I had a bit more time to recover before discussing everything face to face."

He sighed. "I cannot say that I agree with your decision. I know that you have not asked for my advice, and am aware that you will likely choose not to follow it, but are you willing to hear it and think about it regardless?"

She nodded.

"I think," he said, "that putting off a discussion of your illness will only make it more difficult when the time comes and that you are rejecting an opportunity to improve your relationship with your parents. They seem extremely concerned about your well-being, and perhaps it would be best for you to go home for the break, even if it is not the easiest choice for you to make."

"I appreciate your concern, sir, but you're aware that my recovery hasn't been as fast as it should be. I'm a little worried about what will happen if I go home at this point, or anywhere for that matter. I'm making progress, but the balance is delicate, and not one I'd like to upset."

He nodded gravely. "I trust that you know what's best. I must, however, insist upon additional supervision while your friends are not there to support you. Would you feel comfortable with having your room rejoined with Severus' quarters during the break?"

She gaped. "Have you asked him about this?"

"I was hoping I could convince you to go home. I do think if you find the idea tolerable, I can make him see the importance of this arrangement."

Her stomach sank. Severus would never agree to this. "Well," she said uncertainly, "if it's alright with him, I guess it's fine with me."

Dumbledore's smile was knowing enough that Hermione felt a tiny rush of panic, wondering if he was truly as omniscient as many suspected, but he simply said, "I thought you might not mind. Severus isn't as disagreeable as he'd like those around him to believe. I'll be in and out of the castle, but I'll surely see you around. Have a good day, Hermione."

"Thank you, Professor."

Recognizing her dismissal, she left, mind buzzing with hopes for the upcoming holiday.

"You want me to do _what?_" Severus spat, nearly choking on his tea as Albus chuckled merrily.

"I believe you spend entirely too much time alone, especially during the holidays. It would do the both of you a lot of good if you kept an eye on Miss Granger. You are well aware of my responsibilities, so I'm sure you understand that it would be impossible for me to provide adequate supervision myself."

"Why me? Can't you get Poppy to watch her?"

"Severus, she may be an excellent healer, but few can match your attention to detail."

"Have you forgotten the reason I had to stop in the first place?"

"I may be old, Severus, but I am not a fool. You worried that something inappropriate would take place if you continued spending a great deal of time in Miss Granger's presence. I believe, at this point, that whatever concerned you-"

"You damn well know what concerned me!"

"Please do not interrupt. I think, Severus, by the time you realized there was a problem, it was simply too late for you to put an end to what was coming into being."

"Are you suggesting it would be appropriate for me to-"

Albus' blue eyes were fierce and the intensity of his voice was enough to make Severus feel like a teenager again. "I am not suggesting that anything is appropriate, and you should be well aware of my obligations should I become aware of such things taking place!" His face softened. "Severus, there are some things in life we cannot control, and we only hurt ourselves and others by trying. If anything unconventional has taken place, or takes place in the future, I trust your discretion and judgment. You've come a long way since the mistakes of your youth, and I trust your sense of right and wrong. It is important that you do not forget Miss Granger's youth, but also understand the damage indecision can do. Make a choice, Severus, and if nothing else, be consistent. You owe her that much."

Professor Snape nodded. "I will keep an eye on her over break, Albus."

"Thank you. I trust that you'll do what's in her best interest."

It felt like she hadn't even blinked before Hermione found herself caught in the enthusiastic embraces of her departing friends.

"Promise you'll owl us!" Ginny insisted.

"I will."

"Every day?"

"I have to study at some point, you know!"

"Not as much as the rest of us." Ron muttered. He was still a bit grouchy about Luna joining them over break, though she seemed oblivious as she wrapped her arms around Hermione and whispered in her ear,

"Take care of yourself. When we get back, I'll know, and I'll kill you if you don't."

Hermione chuckled, but knew the blonde was serious. She was surprised that when she returned to her room, the door to Snape's quarters was already there. It was in the same place as her door to the common room had been, but heavier, of darker wood, and with a doorbell beside it.

Even more unexpected was the knock that came only a few minutes after she had curled up in bed with her Ancient Runes text.

"Come in." she called.

He swept in, dark hair cascading around his sallow face. He looked older than he had at the beginning of the year, more tired. Hermione found him no less beautiful, but was deeply haunted by the reminder that even if they both had long lives ahead of them, she would likely be left alone in the end.

She chastised herself for thinking they could be together for so long, even if it felt like it would be wrong to be with anyone else. Suddenly, she realized he was talking.

"I'm sorry, Professor. What did you say?"

"I said you can take meals with me in my quarters, if you'd like. The Headmaster does not want you spending too much time alone, so when you are not sleeping or engaged in other private activities, it would be best for you to come here. You may study quietly while I work, or you may assist with some of the potions I am preparing during the break."

She nodded, aware of almost nothing but the softness she saw in his dark, penetrating eyes.


	42. Satisfied

**The Last Place You Look Chapter 42: Satisfied**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione had a hard time eating with Severus watching, but she knew it would be worse for her to eat in the sparsely populated Great Hall, since the students who had stayed over break would have little to distract them from her peculiar habits. She was also, though of course she would never admit it, reluctant to do anything that would take her from his presence unnecessarily. She enjoyed spending time with him, even when awkward silence reigned and she could do little more than steal glances while they ate, struggling to fit food in a stomach already overrun with butterflies.

Severus was feeling rather nervous about the arrangement himself. The others had left just yesterday, and already he was overcome, on multiple occasions, by the almost unbearable urge to reach out and touch her. Yes, she was worth the wait. He would wait for her until the end of time if only he could see her healthy, but every moment of restraint left something in him screaming with need. His body craved her touch, and it made him feel weak.

He knew it wouldn't be long before the topic of their relationship came up, but he was a bit surprised when Hermione broached the subject the day after her friends left. She had been reading quietly while he worked on a relatively simple potion, enjoying the rhythm of chopping and stirring. Of course he had noticed that as time went on, she turned the pages less frequently, though she didn't dare to look up. Finally, he heard the words he had been dreading.

"Professor, how much longer?"

"How much longer before what, Hermione?" He already knew what she was talking about, but this conversation had come much sooner than he expected, and he still felt naked and unprepared.

"Before you stop treating me like a mental patient and start thinking about me as a woman."

"Hermione, this isn't the sort of thing that should be rushed."

"I don't see why we should have to wait this long, either."

He sighed. "You are still very young."

"Am I too young to know what I want?"

"You are still changing a great deal. You clearly know what you want now, but that doesn't mean you'll agree with yourself ten years from now."

"I think I will." She had stood, was moving closer.

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, struggled to keep his arms from wrapping around her in the embrace that had waited far too long. "It's impossible to be sure. I don't want to pressure you. I don't want to rush into something that you may later consider a mistake."

"I've made a lot of mistakes, Severus," here she paused, almost imperceptibly, to make sure he would allow her to use his first name, "and I'm positive this isn't one of them."

Hermione was close now, close enough to reach out and touch. He wanted to stroke her hair, trace loving fingertips over her cheeks, but because he cared about her so intensely, because, as he was coming to realize, Severus _loved_ Hermione, he held back, terrified of hurting her.

"Hermione, we shouldn't."

"You worry so much about hurting me by doing something," she was moving closer now, close enough to inhale his incredible scent, "but has it ever occurred to you that you hurt me much more by refusing to even touch me?"

His head pounded with the intensity of thoughts that roared in his ears and drowned out the cries of reason.

Her lips were sweet and soft, moving feather-light and tentative against his. Warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and she felt so small against him.

It had to be wrong, Severus thought, for her touch to feel so perfect when she was half his age. He struggled to care about reality, about the danger of their situation. He knew he should stop, but his hands drifted over her back and he inhaled, letting himself fill with the utterly intolerable bliss of it all.

He knew, with utter certainty, that no matter how badly he wanted to turn his back on it all, for both of them to continue on their separate paths, never being more to one another than they should, that what was happening now could not be stopped. He could move slowly, put off the touch, the sex, hoping she would grow frustrated and move on, but Hermione would never give up, and no other woman could ever take her place.

There would be no moving on, no putting this behind them. Severus Snape was not a man who accepted defeat easily, but he knew, without a shadow of doubt remaining, that he would stay with her. Her touch resonated more deeply than even Lily's had, even on that one, unforgettable night when they were both barely more than children and her fingers had twined in his for the first time. He had thought then that he could never forget, never move on. That moment had changed his life, sending pieces of him scattering in a million directions. No, he would never forget Lily, but for the first time since her eyes had sparkled as she gazed longingly at James, Severus felt whole again.

The small hands that had tickled the back of his neck slid slowly down his shoulders, palms pressed against his chest as fingertips eagerly drank in the texture of his shirt.

She had stopped kissing him, and those innocent brown eyes now shined up at him, questioning, pleading.

He sighed, and pulled her close. The embrace was loving and protective, leaving Hermione wondering more than ever whether he could even begin to see her the way she saw him.

His hands moved over her back, and finally, she knew she meant more to him than anything else. Their lips met. and he kissed her the way he had wanted to for longer than he would ever admit. It felt better than he expected.

His hands slowly moved down her chest. She wanted to scream for him to move faster, but she was terrified he might stop. Finally he was cupping her breasts, and she knew better than to complain about their size as her body was enveloped in amazing warmth. It was hard to hate herself now, under his amazing, penetrating coal black stare. Her insides swam, elated, out of control, simply _euphoric_. And Hermione knew this was love. She was young, but still, she knew. Nothing she felt for the rest of her life would ever compare to the way she felt in this moment, with his hands moving slowly over her.

_I shouldn't be doing this._Severus told himself, over and over, to stop, but he couldn't. His body, his heart, had wanted it for too long to let his mind put a stop to things now. And the look on her face… How could it possibly be wrong for two people to come together when both so clearly, so desperately, wanted it to happen?

His racing heart drowned out all thought. His lips slid against hers and his tongue touched her tongue. Nothing else, ever, could feel so perfect.

And yet… His unbearable arousal tainted the moment. What he wouldn't give to take her to bed, to let his kisses drift lower as he peeled away his clothes and let her moans resonate with everything inside him.

Hermione had never been so turned on in her life. Nothing she had done, alone or with anyone else, had brought her close to this point. And it was hard to think. How could she convince him this was right when the sheer bliss of it left her incapable of forming a coherent sentence? But maybe she wouldn't have to. Maybe it felt the same to him, and for once, he would let things move the way they were meant to.

"Hermione, we shouldn't" The soft words escaped in a warm breath drifting past her earlobe, and even this made her shudder with desire.

"Please." Was all she could say.

And the way the words sounded, the voice flowing through her lips, was enough to make him come undone, completely, irreversibly. His mouth was on his neck now, murmuring promises that he could never love another the way he loved her, promises that dissolved on her hot moist skin, fuelling the heat that built in her core.

Her body was against his now, touching everywhere two bodies could touch, and they breathed as one. The gasping hitched as her thigh pressed against his erection, and again as his leg was met with the burning heat between hers.

They melted together and her eyes drifted closed, but she forced them open, dying to see how he looked right now. His expression could be described as nothing less than enraptured; his eyes bored into hers and she almost dissolved into a quaking peak in that moment, but she held back. She didn't want to give him any reason to stop, even a moment of peace in which he could regret making this choice.

Her leg wrapped around his body and her back arched, pressing them constantly closer. The hearts that beat as one raced on at an ever increasing pace while her fingers tumbled through his hair and his hand slid against her writhing lower back.

"We shouldn't…"

She stopped his protests with a kiss, and both of their bodies trembled with white-hot, overwhelming ecstasy. She felt his hardness on her leg, and he felt her unbearable warmth against his thigh, and they pressed closer, moving faster, drawing air in desperate pants through rosy, swollen lips. Finally her body crushed itself into his, and the feeling was blinding, completely overwhelming, and the legs, now entwined, trembled together as they reached desperate, moaning peaks.

His breath still heavy, cheeks still pink, he finally pulled away, his eyes searching her for any sign of distress.

But in this moment, Hermione looked, and felt, more content than she could ever remember feeling. Her arms, still around him, pulled him close, and her head rested on his shoulder.

"I shouldn't have-"

"Please. I'm so glad we did, no matter what you think you should have done."

Hesitantly, "so am I."


	43. Ponderings

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione's head was still spinning when it made contact with her pillow that night. After the rather exquisite little "incident", Professor Snape had spent the rest of the day carefully keeping his distance from her. The soft, cool sheets felt amazing against her bare skin, but she couldn't seem to keep her eyes closed. Instead, she stared at the white ceiling, barely visible above her, and wondered what the future held.

Severus paced before the fire. How could he have let things go so far? Hermione was bright, mature, and certainly unlike any girl her age he'd ever encountered, but she was still his student, and was still young. He wasn't sure how to handle it. It wasn't even close to midnight, and he'd already had a fair bit to drink. He knew it wasn't healthy, wasn't reasonable to try to get away like this from something that he held so close it was almost a part of him now, but he was desperately struggling to find a way to resist her almost gravitational pull.

And then, he had to ask himself, was she really healthy? All of the intelligence and maturity in the world couldn't justify his actions if she wasn't in a proper emotional state. What would he do if he made things worse? It wasn't just about him anymore, about his career, or where his choices could take him. As much as he struggled not to admit it to himself, he cared about Hermione very deeply, and couldn't live with knowing he had damaged her.

His head spun. These thoughts were overwhelming, growing thicker and thicker in his dizzy, spinning head. And that was when he heard it.

A soft, delicate knock coming from the door that lead to her room. Why was she still awake? If she needed him, why hadn't she bothered ringing the doorbell, which he could hear from anywhere in his quarters, which would wake him had he been asleep? Sighing, he drew himself up to full height, adopting a more rigid posture as he strode over to see what she needed.

He was surprised to see her standing there in just her nightgown, looking beyond exhausted.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" He struggled to conceal his frustration, knowing that now was not the time to express any annoyance he may have felt. She stood before him, vulnerable, and pale, already seeming to regret disturbing him.

"No. I'm sorry for disturbing you, sir. I just was having trouble sleeping."

"Would you like a potion?"

She sighed. "I'm not sure it would help, to be honest. There's just a lot going on in my mind."

"Please, come in." He was in no mood for visitors, and more than a little drunk at this point, but if she felt inclined to open up to him, he would not miss the opportunity. Aside from that, saying no to her had only grown harder as he had become addicted to the softness that rested in her trusting, deep brown eyes.

Hesitantly, she followed him, taking a seat in one of the chairs facing the fire. She stared into the flickering heat for a while without speaking, until finally, he broke the silence.

"What is on your mind, Miss Granger?"

"I wish you would stop calling me that. It feels strange."

"You have not answered my question." He thought he saw her blushing in the firelight.

"I was just thinking about earlier…" She didn't know how to continue.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Did my actions make you uncomfortable?"

"It depends on which actions you're thinking about." She admitted softly.

He looked at her, dark eyes burning with unspoken fascination. Finally, she continued.

"I didn't mind you kissing me, or anything that came after that. What bothered me was the way you made sure you came nowhere near me for the rest of the day, the way you shut me out."

He didn't know how to respond. He knew it was wrong to be so emotionally unavailable while still doing things to nurture her… unhealthy attachment to him, but deep down, he was having trouble convincing himself it was truly unhealthy, and an even harder time pretending he didn't feel the same way about her. The urge he felt to touch her through the day had been nearly unbearable, and completely distracting. Suddenly, he noticed the way she was looking at him, and realized that she was expecting some sort of response to what he had said.

"I'm truly sorry. I've never harbored inappropriate feelings for a student before, let alone one as brilliant and emotionally challenged as you are." She wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or insulted. "Hermione, you make me feel things that I haven't felt in years, and at the same time, I know you're going through a great deal right now, and I don't want to push you away, but I'm terrified of causing you more distress."

"Do you have any idea how much more frustrating it is for me to never know if you want this? I kind of thought we covered it earlier. When you're hot and cold without any kind of notice, it only messes with me."

"I don't want you to feel pressured."

"Maybe you should wait for me to actually ask you to stop before you go jerking away like I've been screaming for it." Even after all his years of teaching, Severus was surprised by the pure venom her voice held.

Again, he sighed. "I don't want to rush you into growing up just because I'm so much older than you are."

"I am the way I am, and you're not changing me. Did it ever even cross your mind that I might be ready? Were you still an untouched virgin at my age?"

He was silent. He couldn't say he was.

"That's what I thought."

"Hermione, this isn't the same. I'm not your age, not even close, and I'm your _teacher. _I've known you since your first year here, since you were eleven. Do you think I can just toss aside your innocence like it means nothing?"

"Why does it mean so much more to you than it does to me?"

"Because," he looked at her with an intensity that made her heart flutter, and she knew he meant what he was saying, "I know what it is to let go of innocence too young. You may think you want this now, but there's no way of knowing if it's really best for you, or if years from now, scars will appear from wounds you never knew were made."

She was silent for a moment. How could she convince him this was different, that it was what she wanted? How had his innocence left him too young? Had it been his involvement in the Dark Arts, or something else entirely? Somehow she thought he wouldn't be telling her tonight.

"I know I want this. It isn't hurting me. If anything, I'm getting stronger, and you have to see that. You have to be able to tell that I've been healing, even if my progress is slower than it should be. And you have to know that you're helping me get better, whether you'll admit to it or not."

"Even if that may be, we can't rush into anything. I care about you too much to risk hurting you for the sake of satisfying physical desires. I think we should wait to push things further, physically, until we've known each other longer, at the very least."

She looked annoyed. "Which one of us is supposed to be the girl here, anyway?"

He was surprised to hear something like that coming from her, but chose not to express his annoyance. "Hermione, I refuse to push this. Anything of a… physical nature will develop slowly or not at all. If this is what you truly want, you will be willing to wait for it."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to bed."

"Would you like something to help you sleep?"

"No. I have a lot to think about."

She retreated to her room, leaving Severus wondering if he'd said or done something wrong. He thought back on the conversation, but his lack of experience in matters of the heart left him utterly baffled.

Hermione ran herself a nice hot bath, thinking about everything he'd said to her. Why did he care so much? Either he wasn't that physically attracted to her or… maybe he felt more deeply for her than she had ever imagined. Both options made her slightly uncomfortable. She knew her infatuation with him was wild, spinning out of control, but the thought that his feelings were anywhere close to her own in their intensity made her head spin, made her terrified, because if he felt about her the way she felt about him, there would be no way to stop the relationship from rushing forward. Sexually, she desired him. She felt ready for intimacy on that level, but she wondered if she could handle the emotional intensity that was flickering to life.

She couldn't imagine loving anyone else, being with anyone else, but Hermione knew she was young. How could she know he was the one she belonged with when he wouldn't even touch her in ways they both wanted? If everything kept moving agonizingly slowly, how would she be able to discern between the frustration and anticipation she was bound to feel, and her actual attraction to him?

She sank into the hot water, starting to feel a little drowsier. She breathed in the warm, misty air and let her mind wander.

Maybe her sexual frustration was clouding her judgment. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so frustrated. But at the same time, how could he deny what was between them?

And so her mind oscillated violently between thinking they were meant to be together and fearing that what she thought they had was nothing more than a childish obsession. Finally, she noticed how wrinkled her fingers had grown and decided it was time to go to bed.

Like almost every time she found herself naked, Hermione couldn't help but examine her body. She could tell that she'd gained weight, but parts of her were actually starting to look firmer, and her skin was definitely less dry and blotchy than it had been before, even with all of the cleansers and potions she had used to try and make it look like it used to.

When she had first started fasting, it made her feel alive, and energized, but it seemed like as time passed, she had grown dull and listless. After a small eternity of eating more than she could easily bear and taking those nourishing potions, she was finally starting to feel like herself again. She could almost see why those around her had been so afraid of her strange mannerisms and rapidly plummeting weight, but at the same time, she wondered…

What would it feel like now if she went back to the way she was?


	44. An Outing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

When Hermione and Severus sat down to breakfast the next morning, it was with the unspoken consensus that it'd be best to avoid the topics of their late night conversation. Hermione sipped her tea and nibbled at the fruit on her plate. She ate her toast without complaint, though she still steadfastly refused to butter it, and Severus noticed with a pang of annoyance that she carefully ate around the yolk of each egg. He was tempted to start insisting on serving them scrambled, but wasn't sure if the ensuing confrontation would lead to any sort of progress, and he was painfully aware of how easily she could fall back into the intensely destructive patterns that had ravaged her body during previous months.

He commented on the relative warmth of the weather considering the time of year, and she insisted it was still much too cold. For a while, silence reigned. He sipped his coffee, staring pensively into the dark, shining liquid, not allowing himself to look at her aside from the glances he stole of her reflection in the coffee's rippling surface each time he set the mug down.

"Hermione?"

She looked up, and the hope that flashed in her eyes made his heart ache. "Yes?"

"I need to run some errands this afternoon. Do you need anything from Hogsmeade?"

His stomach twisted as the spark was extinguished and her eyes grew dull again. "Nothing comes to mind, Sir."

He sighed. "Call me Severus."

"Alright." He could tell she was getting frustrated with him, hoping for something more, but at the same time, afraid to let herself trust him. He loathed himself in that moment, thinking of his constant indecisive state and what it had done to her emotions.

Suddenly, she let out a startled squeak. He looked at her, alarmed.

"It's almost Christmas!"

Severus was still puzzled. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"I haven't been allowed out of the castle since all of this food rubbish started! I don't have gifts for anyone yet." She leaned toward him, biting her lip, big brown eyes shining, pleading. He knew what she was going to ask before the words made it out of her mouth. "Can I come with you?"

"Hermione, I hardly think that would be appropriate."

"So what, are you going to just leave me here by myself?"

"I believe you can amuse yourself for a few hours."

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?"

"Shall I have someone babysit you while I'm gone?"

She didn't speak for a moment, and he struggled to hide any signs of the discomfort he felt beneath her icy glare. Perhaps, he realized, that last comment had crossed a line. When she finally responded, her voice was aching and soft, nothing like he had expected.

"You have no idea what it's like."

"Then tell me." The intensity of his stare made her acutely uncomfortable, as though he were studying her in minute detail. Hermione found herself at a loss for words. She stared at her plate, poking tiny, deliberate holes in an egg yolk with her fork.

"Everyone's always watching me," she began slowly, "like I'm about to come unhinged at any moment, like I can't be trusted to be sane. It's embarrassing and insulting, even though it's kind of my fault."

"We worry about you." he murmured softly, fighting the urge to take her in his arms. He let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose you may come if you are willing to stay with me the entire time. I certainly can't have you wandering off. We can make a few extra stops if there is anywhere in particular you need to go."

She positively beamed at him, but he was acutely aware of the sadness still held in those knowing chestnut orbs. "What time will we be leaving?"

"I'd appreciate it if you could be ready in about an hour."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

Hermione rushed back to her room, hoping her shower wouldn't take too long. She had bathed last night, but it had been so long since she had a chance to just get out of the castle…

She frowned as she pulled on a pair of jeans that had been baggy just a few weeks ago… They were a bit snug now. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to dig through her clothes at the moment. Sighing, she covered herself with a long-sleeved shirt, and, upon noticing that the neckline was a bit low for her taste, a big sweater.

She couldn't resist applying a small amount of makeup, even though she no longer needed to cover blemishes on her face. It was just a trip to Hogsmeade, but she felt acutely aware of her appearance, and somewhat anxious about being seen by so many strangers.

Hermione walked through the door to Severus' quarters a few minutes after the allotted hour had passed, but he did not comment on her lateness.

They walked through the woods together in silence. Hermione was thinking about what she would get Harry and Ron for Christmas, and Severus was focusing on not looking at Hermione. Naturally, they took care of the shops he needed to go to first. They stopped at an apothecary, where he purchased several ingredients, then at a bookstore specializing in more obscure titles. Hermione made a mental note to explore the bookstore more during future visits.

After a third stop in which Severus purchased extra glassware for the Potions classroom, Hermione was allowed to choose their destinations. She bought Harry and Ron some of the newer items on display at Zonko's and then set off to find something for Ginny and her parents. She wanted to get something for Severus as well, but wasn't sure how she could buy anything without him noticing. He was keeping a rather close eye on her.

Several times, he touched her. It made her heart race and filled her with a strange elation, even though it was nothing more than a hand on the small of her back to guide her or a small brush of fingertips on her hand or face. Maybe he didn't even realize he was touching her, but it was all she could feel.

The first time was before they had even reached Hogsmeade; the path dipped sharply ahead of them, and Severus had grabbed her elbow to make sure she wouldn't fall. The protectiveness of his gesture almost made her head spin, but she tried not to think about it. She ended up getting Ginny a set of butterfly hairclips that were enchanted to flutter their wings and change color throughout the day, and a book for her parents. It was getting late, and Severus still hadn't left her side, so she decided to figure something out for him later. Perhaps she could make him a drawing- though she rarely showed them to anyone, she often made intricate sketches when she took a break from studying or finished a test early.

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to stop?" he asked, as they walked through the biting winter air.

"I don't think so." Her voice sounded a bit muted, though she hadn't meant to speak so softly. He slowed down a bit, staring at her intently.

"Hermione, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. Why?" Actually, now that he mentioned it, her head was feeling sort of fuzzy…

"You look unwell. You're much paler than you were a few minutes ago."

"Maybe it'll help if I sit down for a moment and catch my breath." He led her to a bench and sat down beside her. The intensity of his focus on her made her feel even stranger. He pulled out his pocket watch, glanced at it, and swore under his breath.

"Is there a problem, Professor?"

"It's nearly three in the afternoon and you haven't eaten anything since breakfast. I'm sorry. I should have thought of this sooner. We need to get you something to eat."

"I'll be fine. I can just have something when we get back to the castle."

"No. You barely ate at breakfast and you look like you're about to pass out. What would you like?"

"I don't care." She felt embarrassed. Eating in front of him was bad enough. She didn't want to have to eat in public, and she wasn't really comfortable being the focus of this much attention.

"Very well. Come with me."

When Hermione stood, Severus surprised her by taking her arm to steady her. He led her down the street into a place where she had never eaten before. The room was softly lit, and the crisp linen tablecloths made Hermione a bit nervous.

"Erm, professor, I'm not sure I have enough money with me to eat here."

He shot her an irritated look. "Don't be absurd. You are currently in my care, and you will not pay for a meal ordered due entirely to a disturbing lack of foresight on my part. I should have made you eat something hours ago."

She felt distinctly awkward as the graceful hostess led them to a table. Glancing at the menu only increased her discomfort. The food here was definitely expensive…

"Sir?" she ventured.

"Call me Severus."

"Sorry. That one just takes some getting used to. I was just wondering why you chose to eat here."

"For one, the food here is actually quite palatable, something that cannot be said of most of Hogsmeade's dining establishments. I'm also rather partial to their pomegranate wine."

"Isn't it a bit… expensive?"

"For the last time, Hermione, that does not concern you. I chose to come here because I'd like to enjoy a decent meal, and since you will not be paying, it would be best for you to simply ignore the prices."

She sighed and busied herself with a thorough analysis of the salad options, trying to quickly tabulate calorie counts and choose the least offensive option. Severus observed her a moment, before speaking in an amused tone.

"You may order a salad as an appetizer if you'd like, but you will need to choose something more substantial as well."

Hermione shot him the dirtiest look she could muster. Severus was unaffected. She sighed and turned her attention to the entrees. Her heart started beating faster as she read the descriptions, and contemplated how fattening each thing would be.

"If you're not comfortable making a healthy decision, I will select something for you."

"Actually, I think that might be easier. I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

Hermione pushed through the door and stood in front of the mirror. She was a bit flushed, and her head felt foggy. It was probably a good thing she would be eating soon. Skipping meals had never bothered her much in the past, but now her body didn't have so many stores of fat and nutrients to draw from.

She was also terribly nervous. She splashed cold water on her face and pressed her palms into her temples, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths. Feeling a bit more grounded, she fixed her makeup to the best of her ability, smoothed her sweatshirt, and walked back out into the restaurant.


	45. Pomegranate Wine

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I've had some nasty writers block, but I'm doing my best to get back in the habit of writing more.  
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As Hermione sat down at the table, she couldn't help but notice the way Severus' hair shone in the dim light. She tucked the linen napkin neatly in her lap and watched the candlelight reflecting in his eyes. There was a long silence between them before he spoke.

"I ordered you grilled salmon. I hope that's alright." Hermione nodded, trying not to let the calculations whizzing through her mind show on her face, trying to imagine, for just a second, that they were there together as a couple, that in some parallel universe it was conceivable that they would fall in love and it would come to something.

Before the salmon came a salad. Hermione hadn't been planning on actually eating a salad in addition to the main course, but now she realized that because he had already ordered it, she would have to eat it. She wanted to glare, but didn't.

Mainly because, before the salad, came the wine. She wasn't sure whether he had ordered it for both of them or if the waiter had simply misunderstood, but he made no move to stop her as she sipped from the glass placed in front of her.

The wine was tart, but at the same time, amazingly sweet, and Hermione could see why eating here would be worth it for the wine alone. She let the waiter refill her nearly empty glass as he brought the salad. Hermione tried not to think about how many calories were in the wine or in her food. She was sitting down to a meal with Severus, and he was treating her as an equal, without all of the emotional barriers usually slammed into place between them.

So she didn't complain about the salad, even though it was more than she liked to eat in an entire meal. By the time the entrée had arrived, she was feeling increasingly anxious about what he would think of her if she ate too much, what he might say if she ate too little…

She hoped the meal wouldn't end up being terribly fattening. The waiter seemed oblivious to Severus' disapproving gaze as he poured Hermione another glass of wine. Her head felt a little fuzzy, but the tension that had previously filled her entire body was rapidly dissipating as her cheeks grew warmer and her smile came more easily.

They talked about books they'd read and what she thought she might do after graduating from Hogwarts. Severus couldn't help but smile. It was good to see Hermione relaxing a little. He didn't think it was entirely appropriate to let her continue drinking, but he reasoned that she was certainly old enough to have wine with a meal on occasion and found himself ordering a second bottle when the first ran out. The wine was, in fact, simply exquisite, and he had consumed more than his fair share, so he somehow justified ordering a third.

Hermione ate slowly, putting her fork down after each bite and taking a sip of water or a sip of wine. She felt a bit self-conscious over eating so slowly; she was painfully aware of how much sooner he was done than she was.

When the waiter came and Hermione was still eating, Severus ordered himself dessert, not wanting to make her feel self-conscious about the pace of her food consumption. He knew it could be hard to start again after learning to exist without ever really eating much.

Talking to him was incredible. Hermione tried not to let her eyes stray too often to his lips or to the graceful pale hand that held the spoon he used to crack the shell of his Crème Brule. When she couldn't eat anymore, she pushed the plate away. His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, even though she thought she had eaten enough, but he didn't comment. When the check came, he deftly snatched it from the table and handed it back to the waiter before Hermione was fully aware of what was happening. They sat in silence for a moment and finished the wine.

"Are you ready to walk back now, or would you like to sit a bit longer?" Severus asked softly.

Hermione sighed. She didn't want to go back to the castle, where Severus would be much more acutely aware of his role as her professor. Sadly, there was no real reason to linger, so she stood and allowed herself to be led back into the crisp winter air. The sun hung low in the sky now, blazing red and bathing everything in a fiery glow. There had been so much to talk about at dinner, Hermione thought she would never run out of things to say to Severus, but now she found herself speechless. They walked for a while in silence, feeling suddenly aware of their unintentional intoxication. Hermione stared at the two long shadows flickering along on the ground, silently wishing her own legs were a little longer, and her frame more willowy.

"We were out much longer than I had intended." Severus spoke for the first time as they reached the edge of town. "It's already getting dark. Stay close."

"Okay."

The silence following Hermione's reply was short, but the weight of things left unsaid made it seem almost unbearably drawn out. Finally, she spoke again.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Dinner. Getting me out of the castle. Noticing me. Trying to stop me from falling apart."

"My pleasure."

Glancing sideways, she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, threatening a smile. Her eyes stayed glued to him. He looked incredible in the light of the dying sun. His pale skin caught flashes of brilliant dusky orange, almost glowing, but his cloak, his hair, his eyes, were all flat inky blackness. He caught her staring and raised an eyebrow questioningly. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just now. A minute ago. Sometimes you look so intensely thoughtful I start to go crazy wondering what's going on in that head." Hermione regretted starting this conversation before she had reached the end of the sentence. She was blushing terribly, she could feel it. She hoped he would blame the cold, or the wine…

Severus stopped walking. He turned to her, his gaze intense. "Do you really want to know?"

Hermione stopped a moment after he did, and had to walk back a few steps before their eyes met. She nodded. "Yes."

"I was thinking I shouldn't have let you drink so much wine with so little food." He smirked at her.

"I ate plenty."

"Hermione, you're drunk."

"Am not."

"You are slurring."

"No, you are."

"Fine. Now let's get you back to the castle."

"What are we going to do there?"

"You're going to drink a sobering potion."

"Why? I feel rather nice."

"So you don't embarrass yourself."

"I'm not embarrassed."

"You may find yourself retracting that statement later." They started walking again. Hermione let out a stifled giggle. "What?"

"Do you know how to skip?"

Severus looked flabbergasted. "Have you been listening to me at all?"

"Just…" Hermione was laughing so hard now it was hard for her to talk. "The thought of it. The thought of you skipping. It's so absurd. Do you even know how?"

"Don't be silly."

"Well, do you?"

"If I answer, will you stop pestering me?"

"I'm pestering you?" She looked at him with wide shining brown eyes, and Severus couldn't tell whether she was toying with him or actually on the verge of tears.

He sighed.

"You're not pestering me."

She beamed, and it made his stomach flip, and he knew he must be drunk because his heart was beating faster every time she looked at him. Hermione linked arms with Severus, and the gesture was casual but the feelings attached to it were anything but. He did not pull away.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Of course I know how to skip. Do you honestly think I'm so peculiar I wouldn't even know how?"

"Can we skip the rest of the way back to Hogwarts?"

"No."

"Please?"

"I don't skip."

"But you just said-"

"I _can_ skip. I simply choose not to."

She let out a loud sigh. Her arm was still linked with his, and her unsteady weight against him was warm and comforting.

Fortunately, since the castle was so deserted over break, Hermione and Severus encountered no one in the corridors leading to their rooms. He led her to the kitchen table.

"Sit."

She rolled her eyes, but sat down. Severus' movements in the kitchen were every bit as swift and agile as they were in the potions lab. Hermione watched him making tea, and accepted the mug he offered her moments later without protest. Her head felt light and wonderful, and her body moved strangely, almost like it was not her own. She didn't really want the feeling to go away just yet, but she was reluctant to do anything to irritate Severus too much.

"This tea will make me sober, won't it?"

"That is the general idea, yes."

"Being drunk feels rather nice. Do you think I could just stay as I am for a while longer?"

"Do you trust me, Hermione?"

This time she knew her blush was obvious. She didn't know what to say, had never really thought about it. Slowly, she nodded, surprised to find that yes, she did trust him. If Hermione was honest with herself, she trusted him more than she trusted just about anyone else.

"Drink the tea. You'll be glad you did."

The warm mug felt comforting in her hands as she lifted it to her lips. Hermione was surprised by how safe and content she felt in that moment.


	46. Always and Never

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I've had some nasty writers block, but I'm doing my best to get back in the habit of writing more.  
-

It did feel better, Hermione thought, now that the blurred world around her was shifting back into a tidy focus, even though a small part of her felt disappointed. She felt terrible for wishing that he had let himself get carried away instead of insisting that she become sober… He was watching her intently, unfathomable dark eyes peering out from the curtain of ivory hair hanging around a pale, angular face. He hadn't yet touched his own sobering draught, and his eyes were shining with something she couldn't quite identify.

Hermione's heart almost stopped as Severus leaned forward across the table, caressing her cheek with long, graceful fingers. His face was a blank mask, but the intensity of his emotions left a palpable tingling in the air around them. She marveled at his steady, gentle touch. His hands didn't tremble even though his eyes spun with a chaos belonging to a man on the verge of coming undone. She felt a burning flush blossom in her cheeks.

"Hermione," his voice was soft, affectionate, almost vulnerable, "you know you are beautiful, don't you?"

She looked down, unable to speak, unsure why she was fighting tears. Was he toying with her mind, she wondered, or did he honestly find her beautiful? It was strange to think of herself as someone that would draw much attention, and for him to call her _beautiful_…

"Hermione?" Warm, strong fingers caught her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his as Severus tipped her face up. She could feel herself blushing profusely, unable to articulate any of the thoughts rushing through her mind. "You look like you're about to cry."

He was still intoxicated, she reminded herself. She could play this off as nothing if she took a deep breath and pulled herself together.

"I just…" Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled, trying desperately to keep her voice from giving her away, wondering how many times she would have to say these words to him before they truly sank in, if they ever did. "It's hard sometimes. I worry that I can't tell when someone's just saying something."

"I can assure you, Hermione," he murmured, dark eyes downcast, "I am not trying to deceive you." His continued use of her first name wasn't lost on her, but she didn't dare to comment, terrified one wrong word could shatter the breathtaking world of glass promises her heart was spinning around every word that left Severus' lips.

"Why did you say that?"

"Have I ever told you how poorly you take compliments?" He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated and tired.

"So you're not just saying that because of the alcohol?"

"If I were sober right now, I would know better than to tell you how unbearably tempting I find you, Hermione."

Her head spun as her breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she rose and walked around the table, remembering another kiss they shared in this room, what seemed like an eternity ago. His eyes, dark and burning and intense, never left her as she moved closer, and he made no attempt to stop her approach. Her hands trembled as she moved closer to him. It was silly, she thought, to get so nervous about kissing someone she had already kissed before, but she was addicted to his touch, always deprived, desperate for more, and terrified to do something that might keep her away from him in the future.

Severus did not pull back or look away, nor did he reach out or lean forward. He simply watched, feeling perverted and ashamed but undeniably euphoric as those innocent pink lips moved closer to his slightly parted mouth. Hermione didn't close her eyes as until the moment their lips touched, almost unable to bear giving up the ability to see his face. Perhaps someone who had spent less time studying every detail of Severus' physique wouldn't have even been able to detect the subtle hints of blissful surrender that had crept into his features. Still, before the moment when his eyes slid shut and their lips met, she could see the battle raging between his heart and mind and knew that his conscience could get the better of him any moment.

And Hermione knew it was wrong to kiss Severus more passionately in a desperate attempt to get everything out of this moment that she could, but she couldn't help but hope that if she touched him with all of the passion she felt, he would forget propriety for just a little while…

Her lips grazed his lightly, teasing, almost tickling for an impossibly short instant before she plunged her silky little tongue into his mouth and slid her fingers through his hair. She had missed this more than she could have imagined. He let out a low moan as her body involuntarily pressed closer, shaping itself against him. He tasted of pomegranate wine and smelled like cold bright winter air. Elegant, graceful hands slid slowly up and down her back, pulling her close and enveloping Hermione in exquisite warmth. She smiled.

She could feel his heart beating against her body. Right now, everything felt safe and good. His smell was all around her and his taste was on her lips. Every moment, she was reminded that he was there, that he was alive, that maybe, somehow, life could be as wonderful as it could be painful.

She felt his arousal pressed against her and a jolt of excitement shot through her body. What would happen now? Would he carry her to his bedroom? Would they have sex? Hermione was thrilled and terrified by the possibility. Honestly, she had always thought she would lose her virginity some time after she graduated, when she found a Nice Boy and they had settled down together, but Severus made her feel things no one else had ever come close to. Now, her body was begging for the pleasure that his touch promised, and she couldn't even make herself wish she wanted to stop.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders, brushing aside his satiny black hair to taste the smooth, ivory expanse of neck. Severus grew suddenly tense and she leaned back to look at him questioningly.

"Should we… go somewhere else?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Somewhere more comfortable?" She ventured, blushing furiously.

Severus smiled, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "If that's what you'd like."

"Really? I mean yes. Can we?"

Severus shifted her in his lap so that she was no longer straddling him and cradled her close to his body.

"You would give yourself to me so easily?" He looked skeptical.

Hermione's eyes stung with tears, but she refused to let him see how much his comment hurt her. She bit her lip and nodded.

"Why?"

"Because…" the words 'I love you' died before reaching her lips, drifting away in an aching sigh. "Because I want to." she finished lamely.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you waste such an emotionally charged experience on a relationship that just can't be? You're young, Hermione. You can't waste your life waiting for me."

"I feel like we've had this conversation too many times already. The only waste would be lying to myself and trying to move on. If you want me to back down, fine, I won't bother you anymore, but I'm telling you now that it'll never be this way for me with anyone else. I know this-" she gestured helplessly at the air between them "-can't work, especially not now, but even if I never see you again after I graduate, even if I spend the rest of my life alone, having sex with you would give me something real and beautiful to cling to, when I'm lying in bed years later, wide awake and cold in someone else's arms, thinking about what could have been. I promise I would never speak a word to anyone about what happened, or even how I feel about you."

Severus sighed, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. "I care about you very deeply, Hermione, but you know I can't do that."

"Stop it! Stop trying to be perfect. No one can be. Trust me, I know." Her eyes darkened as she spoke those last four words, and he knew she meant them.

"Listen to me," he said seriously, taking her face in his hands, "you're in a lot of pain right now, and fighting to survive. If you go back to destroying your body the way you were before, there is no doubt in my mind it _will_ kill you. Every day is still a struggle for you, and I've already complicated things more than I should. I don't take your survival lightly, Hermione. You need to be focusing on yourself more right now more than anything else."

And there it was. Hermione had always known, on some level that she could die of this, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would. She could hear the accusation of slow suicide beneath words spoken to her about her habits every day, but for him to put it so bluntly… It felt strange and surreal to think that something like that would ever happen to her, but of course he was right, and she knew it.

"The best things in life are worth waiting for." Severus stood with Hermione in his arms and carried her to bed, smiling at her with sad eyes as he adjusted the covers. She was irresistible, but so fragile…

He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair.

"I don't think it would be a mistake." Hermione said softly after a while.

"Hmm?"

"I don't think it would be a mistake for me to sleep with you. I really do want to…"

"I'm not going to argue with you about whether this is truly the choice you wish to make. I'm telling you now that what you need matters to me most is what you need right now, not what you want, because I want you to be healthy and I'm not willing to distract you when you still haven't learned to put yourself first."

"You don't understand!"

"I'm not claiming to understand everything. I'm refusing to take a risk because I have reached the conclusion that the potential cost is far too devastating."

"I would never tell-"

"-You know that's not what I'm talking about. Please, just get some rest."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled the covers up to her chin, burrowing into the warm softness of her bed. "Fine."

"We can talk in the morning, if you'd like." His lips brushed softly over her forehead as he rose to leave. He paused at the doorway. "Sweet dreams, Hermione."

She closed her eyes, more tired than she'd ever been, but unsure she'd be able to sleep at all.


	47. Repetition

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I've had some nasty writers block, but I'm doing my best to get back in the habit of writing more.  
-

Severus sighed as he gently closed the door to Hermione's room, letting an elegant hand linger for a moment on the doorknob. He was in over his head. He now knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that he was in love with Hermione. Severus supposed he had known, in a way, for a while, but it was becoming more and more impossible for him to deny.

He winced slightly, wondering if the word 'love' was one anyone else would use to describe his forbidden infatuation. 'Perversion', he thought, generally sounded more accurate.

And it was so much worse than falling in love with a student, because she was a student who was struggling emotionally. Not only was she a child, she was unstable, and it was wrong for him to think of her as a woman, Severus told himself again and again. Of course nothing he told himself changed the way he felt.

And tonight, Hermione had seemed so vibrant, so alive, maybe even happy, and he had wanted desperately to think that some change had taken place, that she wouldn't revert in the morning to someone who could barely tolerate the stress of sitting down to eat a simple meal.

_Morning. _Severus dreaded the discussion he knew was coming. He wondered idly if she would finally reject him as the pervert he saw when he imagined himself with her. Surely even a disturbed child would eventually become aware of the completely, undeniably sick nature of his interest in her.

The hardest part for Severus was that it didn't _feel_ sick. It felt real in ways that nothing had since he himself was a student at Hogwarts. That, he thought, might be an indication that something was terribly twisted and wrong, but he wasn't entirely sure he could resist the feelings he had for Hermione. For the first time in decades, he was starting to feel like there was someone he could love like he had once loved Lily Evans.

He wanted now more than ever to roam the corridors as he often did late at night when sleep eluded him, but the thought of what might be at stake if he left Hermione alone was enough to hold him in his quarters, pacing the bedroom restlessly until it became clear that no amount of repetitive motion could calm his racing heart and mind.

He undressed slowly, sliding slender legs reluctantly between cool crisp sheets. He doubted he would sleep well tonight, but he supposed there was no harm in trying.

The moon filtered through his high, narrow windows, throwing faint silvery lines across his ceiling, lines he had counted thousands of time as he laid awake at night. Many times, Severus had drifted off just as the first fiery hues of dawn crept into the sky.

He wasn't sure when, but at some point he must have drifted off. When he rose, the sun was still casting an orange glow through the pale morning sky. It would be a beautiful day, he mused, if he bothered to venture outside.

By the time he had showered and was sitting down with a large mug of coffee and a copy of _The Daily Prophet_, he heard the faint sounds of Hermione walking around her room, presumably getting dressed.

She looked almost as tired as he felt, but Severus chose not to comment on her pale skin or the dark circles under her eyes, since he did not wish to discuss his own obvious exhaustion. Soon enough he would be able to put these thoughts away and go to work on correctly storing his newly obtained supplies.

Hermione sat wordlessly pushing the food around on her plate until Severus felt compelled to speak.

"Do you intend to eat this morning, or will I have to inform Madam  
Pomfrey you aren't cooperating with your treatment?"

Hermione glared at Severus and bit savagely into a slice of cantaloupe. "You don't have to threaten me every time I hesitate to eat, you know."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me."

She watched him in stony silence, and he felt more unsettled than he had in years. Finally, though he had promised himself he wouldn't, Severus couldn't help but ask, "Did you sleep well?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"

"I know this is hard for you. It's hard for both of us."

"'_This'_? Is that what we're calling it now? Of course we can't talk about the feelings, or attraction, or whatever you think it is or isn't between us, because that would just be too simple. Let's dance around the truth like small children afraid of getting in trouble. I'm so frustrated, sometimes I don't sleep at all, but I try to pretend I'm ok, because I know you worry too much. I'm bloody frustrated! I can't handle much more of this, but you're not willing to move forward and I refuse to lose ground. I know I'm young, but I'm not stupid, and I know what you're doing. You think if you ignore your feelings for me long enough, they'll just go away, and everything will be fine. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe you're not younger and more naïve than I am. It won't be fine. I won't stop feeling this way about you, and I can only hope you won't give up on me, either."

"Hermione, you know you're too young to make these kind of decisions."

"No, I'm not too young. Age obviously has little to do with emotional maturity, since you think pretending I'm not in love with you will force me to move on. You can deny your feelings for as long as you want to, but I'm not going to. I may be inexperienced, but I know I love you, and I think you love me too. "

"I haven't been in love in a very long time."

"Then what is this? Does it turn you on that I'm fucked up in the head? Are you some sort of pervert who just can't get turned on by women his own age? I don't think that's who you are. I don't think that's what this is."

Severus was speechless for a moment, painfully aware that never, in his time teaching at Hogwarts, had he felt anything remotely resembling this toward a student. His voice had softened when he finally said, "Hermione, please, calm down."

"You want me to calm down? Are you serious? I'm done. I need time to think." She pushed her almost untouched breakfast away, stood, and abruptly stalked into her room, slamming the door.

Severus could follow her if he wanted to, but he had no idea what he would say, and whether she would have any interest in listening to him at this point.

Hermione huffed loudly as she started to pace her room, even though she was relatively certain Severus couldn't hear her. A small part of her felt triumphant; it seemed that she had found a way to avoid eating much breakfast, even though as her heart leapt at the thought, her stomach sank. She felt twisted and torn, as though the previously intertwined parts of her were being slowly tugged apart. She wanted to be normal, to live like anyone else without obsessing over things even she could understand went unnoticed by others, like whether she put dressing on her salad, but at the same time, Hermione wanted to be thin, so thin she was little more than a sliver, almost small enough to be swallowed whole by the chaos that surrounded her. A part of her cried out that starving could make her light, happy, and pure. She was desperate to stomp out the flaws that exploded out of her heart and blossomed across her body every morning, no matter what it took.

Her heart leapt in her chest as she heard a knock at the door. Desire to feel that Severus cared bitterly fought with the terror she felt that he might want her to eat more.

"Come in." She tried to keep her voice from shaking. Slowly, the door opened, and there he stood, looking more awkward than she had imagined someone as elegant as Severus could. He looked at her with eyes that seemed to pierce through her barriers, leaving her painfully aware of the depth of his sadness. He sat down on her bed and looked at her expectantly.

"Can we talk?"

"What else is there to say?" Hermione hovered where she stood, unwilling to retreat but afraid to draw closer.

"When a man of my age feels this kind of… attraction to a girl of your age, it's rarely healthy and never easy to accept."

"That much is obvious, _Sir_." The last word left her lips tinged with derision.

"Please sit down, Hermione, and listen to what I have to say."

She took a hesitant step closer, then paused as he started to speak again.

"I understand now that you're truly unique, and that it is perhaps unfair of me to lump you in with what I've come to expect of witches at your age, but I need you to think of what kind of man I would have to be to feel comfortable with any sort of romantic interaction. I know that you're different, but few who don't know you can imagine the extent of the difference, and to some it wouldn't matter. What I feel for you, by general consensus, as I'm sure you know, is sick and immoral. I'm not a man who places heavy value on the rules of society, but some are there for a reason. It's difficult for me to believe that what would be best for me would also be best for you. It pains me to stifle my affections, but I

do it because I truly feel it's in your best interest."

"And it doesn't matter what _I_ think is best for me?"

"Hermione, you've been engaging in a lot of self-destructive behavior. Assuming that your feelings for me don't come from the same urges is more than I'm willing to do. I know it seems like I don't care, but I'm just trying to be good for you."

Hermione struggled to keep her voice steady. "Does what I want matter at all?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's what we both want, but what you _need_ matters more."

"You seriously think avoiding contact with me as much as you possibly can is helping?" she asked flatly.

Severus opened his mouth, then closed it again, then let out an exasperated sigh. With her eyes fixed fiercely on him, any argument he made seemed feeble and transparent. "I admit that my handling of the things we have come to feel for one another has been less than ideal, but please at least understand that there's no reason to rush into this. There are many factors working to make a relationship between us nearly impossible at this point, and some of the obstacles you see as meaningless give me pause and make me wonder whether letting things go forward would be the right choice. No matter how many ways I approach the situation in my mind, I always come to the inevitable conclusion that you will be much better off if we both move on."

"Can you move on?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. What I feel for you might last a long time, possibly even for the rest of my life, but that's something I'm willing to live with. The pain of living without you would be nothing compared to what I will feel if I hurt you, and it's hard for me to imagine that a young woman so bright and full of promise will be happiest with a bitter old man."

"You're not old."

"Were you listening to anything I just said?"

"I'm just tired of hearing it, Severus, Professor, whoever the hell you a-" She stopped short, suddenly aware of the intensity of his gaze on her, of his eyes taking in every detail of her face, moving slowly to her lips. She inhaled softly as he drew her close, instantly comforted by his earthy scent.

The gentle kiss lasted for several moments, and though it lacked some of the fire that had illuminated their other embraces, Hermione felt an overwhelming tenderness in Severus' touch. He smiled as he drew away, and once again she dared to hope that he'd move past his reservations to a state of mind that recognized the love between them.


	48. Waited for so Long

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This is a tentative chapter, I'll decide whether to keep it or rewrite based on the feedback it gets.  
-

After finishing the snack Severus had insisted she eat, Hermione spent the day assisting in the brewing of some potions for the hospital wing. Nothing they needed to make was too complicated, and she could have produced passable results on something with this level of difficulty by second year. Still, Hermione felt clumsy and out of her element as she watched the careful movement of his practiced hands. Several times, her professor had to address her more than once to get her attention because of the way her mind wandered when she saw the passionate, almost enraptured expression his face bore when he got lost in his work.

"You're very quiet today." He remarked with a slight smirk, amused by how intensely she focused on the roots she was dicing. She couldn't keep her eyes from sweeping quickly over his body before she responded, feigning shock.

"You miss my inane chatter?"

He rolled his eyes. "Talking to you can be amusing at times."

"So glad I can _amuse_ you." Her words dripped with sarcasm but her cheeks had grown a little pink. Coming from him, that was a compliment, but she refused to acknowledge such backhanded flattery.

"Hermione, it's childish and unbecoming to twist a man's words and throw them back in his face."

She bit her lip, feeling the world 'childish' like a slap on her face.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what comes over me sometimes when I'm with you. Being around you forces me to feel the things I've spent the last decade trying to ignore."

"Are you happy living that way? Would you rather spend the rest of your life trying to kill time, counting the minutes until the end of each day, practically waiting to die?"

"This isn't just about being happy, Hermione. It's about functioning in society, about being able to get by."

She smirked. "Getting by is the best thing you hope for?"

"I'm being realistic about what life has to offer someone like me."

"And I thought I was self-pitying."

Severus glared. Her insolence made something flare up inside him, but the feeling was much more complicated than the anger he'd expected.

She felt a guilty twinge of arousal, startled as she looked up and caught the intensity of his gaze.

He swore under his breath and muttered something about the potion being ruined, then banished it and swept her up in his arms, sitting her on the empty counter behind them and pinning her body against the wall, kissing her deeply. She moaned pressed against him as his hot mouth worked its way down her neck and his hands slid over her body. The suddenness of it was overwhelming, and Hermione struggled to think as her body molded itself to his.

"You'd better tell me right now if this isn't what you want" he murmured into her collarbone. She thought for a moment. She was nervous, but she wanted him so much she couldn't bear the thought of losing what might be her only chance.

"I want it more than you do."

"I seriously doubt that."

She let him pull her clothes away, piece by piece, pausing each time to take in the newly exposed flesh with ravenous eyes, and to cover it with kisses. She tried with trembling fingers to unbutton his shirt, embarrassed by her sudden clumsiness. His hands replaced hers, and he pulled his shirt off without taking his mouth off of her body. As she shifted she could feel his arousal against her leg, and it sent a flash of desperate longing through Hermione's body. Her head spun with desire, confusion, and unadulterated need. If she had doubts, they were drowned out by the pounding of her heart as he gently lifted her shirt over her head and kissed his way down her chest, making her gasp as his mouth caught her painfully hard nipple.

This was it, everything she'd been dreaming of, and she wouldn't let it get away. When he hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction to what was taking place, she seized his lips in a painfully fierce kiss. She wasn't willing to leave any doubt in his mind so she wrapped her arms around him and held him close as hard as she could, moaning into his mouth as her tongue violently explored.

He drew back slightly, and she opened her eyes, seeing the stunned look on his face, but before Hermione had time to take another breath, Severus had swept her up in his arms and was carrying her up the stairs and to his room, laying her on the bed. For a moment, she thought of how her hair sprawled over the pillow, wondering whether it looked beautiful or unruly, but he was upon her before she had time to seriously question herself, soothing her doubts with light kisses and soft sighs.

Her heart froze as his hot tongue danced trails down her stomach, lower and lower until an even more intense blush exploded over her cheeks and her slender fingers tangled in his dark, silky hair, trying to pull him away. Again, her body betrayed her as her hips thrust closer to the face her hands sought to restrain. He gasped, pressing his mouth closer to her burning warmth, even more aroused by the sharp feel of his hair caught between her fingers. Hermione cried out, overwhelmed as his fluttering kisses traveled up her thigh and his mouth finally enveloped her tingling, desperate desire.

Hermione was sure she saw a flash of brilliant light behind her closed eyes as his tongue moved, teasing and curious. A part of her wanted to cry out for him to stop as his movements grew more intense and the hands moving over her body made her head spin, the need she felt clashing with the pleasure vibrating through every bit of her. It could have been seconds, or hours, but suddenly her legs were shaking and her hips pressed forward harder still against the increasingly intense movements of his tongue. She was moaning now, despite her desire on some level to remain silent, to appear sophisticated and unsurprised. The intense peak crashing through her drove all thought from Hermione's mind, even as it ebbed into a soft afterglow and Severus moved up the bed to take her in his arms. She thought she could stay like that forever, but much too soon she felt the familiar sensation of Severus lifting her as he stood and carried her to her own bed. She smiled up at him through the unruly strands of hair that fell across her face as he pulled the covers up to her chin and gently stroked her cheek.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding slightly unsure.

"Better than I've felt in a while." Looking into her amber orbs, Severus could see how hard Hermione was fighting just to keep her eyes open.

"You should get some rest." he murmured as he kissed her cheek.

"It's not even dinnertime. I shouldn't…" He stroked her hair as her eyes fluttered shut, and stood to leave. Severus turned, hand resting on the doorknob, as a sleepy voice reached his ears. "Please believe me when I tell you I wanted this." He smiled, closing the door as quietly as he could before.

Severus spent the next few hours violently pacing his quarters, until a sense of claustrophobia he almost never felt forced him out into the castle's high ceilinged hallways. For a while he wandered aimlessly, but Severus inevitably found himself where he always did during moments of great uncertainty; climbing the spiral staircase that led to the headmaster's office.

"Lemon drop?"

"Not tonight, Albus."

"Then perhaps you'd like to take a seat and tell me what's troubling you, Severus."

Hesitantly, he sat. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Bear in mind that little goes on here of which I'm unaware, and while I love a good story, you seem far too tightly wound to repeat details I already know."

"I've crossed a line, Albus." Inky black hair fell around hands that held a pale face contorted with pain. The warm, comforting hand that had come to rest on his shoulder somehow only made Severus feel worse.

"I believe we both knew this day would come."

Dark eyes widened. "I never-"

"You never meant for this to happen, but your path was laid out before you long before you chose to follow it, or even found the strength to see it."

"I should have never let it go this far!"

"But you have, and now your doubts are doing far more harm than the choices you make in the moments you feel sure. It's time for you to decide now, Severus, and commit to what we both know deep down you must do, despite the consequences you might face one day."

"How could you encourage this? Albus, she's still a child!"

A familiar, infuriating twinkle appeared in calm blue eyes before the older man spoke, "I have no idea who you're talking about, dear boy. I was referring to the role you have to play in the war on our horizon."

Severus rose, knowing the conversation had come to an end, and though his mind was buzzing with even more thoughts than before, started the long walk back to his chambers, knowing Hermione would wake soon, not wanting her to find herself alone.


	49. Dawn

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: For those of you who were wondering, yes, Dumbledore knows what's going on between Snape and Hermione, to some extent at least. Not that I think he'd be thrilled about a teacher fucking a student, but he's probably open-minded enough to see the situation for what it is.

Hermione was curled up by the fire in the sitting room when Severus got back. She looked surprisingly calm as he walked over and sat beside her.

"I know I shouldn't have walked off when I did, and I apologize."

"Where did you go?"

"I needed to think, and I think best when I'm walking."

"Did you reach any good conclusions?" she asked tentatively.

He nodded. "I think I have." Severus turned to face the young witch, taking her hands in his and looking very serious. "I wanted very badly to believe that I didn't love you, and even more, I wanted to believe that you didn't love me." Her heart fluttered a little when he said the word _love_. "I know I hurt you more by trying to protect you, denying what was happening. I'm truly ready to try now, if you still want to, that is."

"No matter how many times you ask me that, the answer will stay the same."

"How are you feeling?"

She looked at him, a little puzzled. "I'm fine. Why?"

"I mean about earlier. After what happened. Are you okay? Is there anything you want to talk about?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not entirely naive, and I'd really rather talk about what you mean when you say you want to try, what any of this is to you."

"I'm saying that for the next couple of years, we won't have many chances to be together, and if, at any point, you don't want to do this anymore, I promise to let you walk away and never look back. You're too young to be tied down, but I do love you, and this-"

"I love you too." tumbled out of her mouth before he could finish his sentence. "I'm sorry. Go on."

He smiled. "I've been talking too much anyway. I want to hear where you'd like to go from here. I think you can understand how careful we have to be if we see each other, and I'm curious about what's going through your head right now."

"I don't think anyone could understand me better than you do, and I don't know anyone who could even come close. I know we can't see each other much, but we'll have to get by on the time we have, and I'm willing to wait for the rest."

"Take some time to think about it." he said softly, brushing her cheek with his fingertips.

"I've barely thought about anything else."

Before Severus could say another word, she was straddling his lap, kissing him in a way that made him forget everything that had been going through his head. He savored the weight of her body and the warmth of her skin, holding Hermione close. A wicked smirk tugged at her lips.

"Is that a wand in your pocket?"

Snape rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile as he followed her to his room. Her kisses grew more urgent as their clothes fell to the floor, and the cool sheets felt exquisite against their skin. She pushed him onto his back, eliciting soft moans as she explored his body with her mouth and hands. He inhaled sharply, startled as she bit down on his neck. A vague part of his mind wanted to protest as she moved closer and closer to his throbbing arousal, but he could barely think over the sound of his heart pounding. Slowly, cautiously, she slid her tongue over the head of his cock before the warmth of her mouth engulfed the tip. She sucked gently, easing more of his shaft through her lips, tensing and pulling away slightly as he felt himself come up against the back of her throat. He gathered up her hair, holding it back with one hand while the other caressed her cheeks, neck, and shoulders. The thrill that rushed through him as he became acutely aware of her innocence left Severus feeling guilty. Hermione must have sensed this, because she paused to smile up at him. Somehow, it made what they were doing and everything they had done feel a lot less wrong.

"You don't have to do this."

She shot him an annoyed look, stopping only for an instant to say "I want to." like he was an idiot for thinking anything else. Her hands moved over his thighs as her mouth slid up and down his length. He guided her body so that her legs sat on either side of his face, nuzzling her inner thighs and pushing his tongue between her lips. Hermione moved her mouth with less precision now, making soft noises against his cock and grinding enticingly against his face. Despite the slight decrease in attention, Severus felt himself getting closer to the edge as he tasted her and felt her wetness on his lips. When the desire to thrust hard into her mouth started to get too intense, he guided her head away and moved her hand to replace it. Her small, soft hand immediately wrapped around him and started moving up and down his shaft in exhilaratingly unpredictable strokes. She cried out as he slid two fingers inside her, bucking wildly and pressing against his mouth as she tightened around his digits. His deep moans as he came only made her orgasm more overwhelming. Once he had cast cleansing spells, he pulled her up to hold her close, enjoying the warmth of her body and the scent of her hair.

Severus spent several slow moments thinking of what he could say to her, how he could express himself without making things more complicated, but by the time he drew breath to speak, he was too aware of the steady rise and fall of Hermione's chest to interrupt her sleep. As he laid there, afraid to move lest he disturb her, he found himself drifting off as well.

The sky was dark when they awoke. Severus felt her body shifting, and his eyes sprung open as images of what had happened flooded his mind. He pulled her close.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." she sounded irate. "I just need to use the bathroom."

"Right. Sorry."

The toilet flushed and he heard the tap running. He had never been cold at night in the castle, but he shivered, missing the heat of her body. When she got back, she sat on the edge of the bed.

"It's very late. You should go to bed."

It was too dark for Severus to see her biting her lip, but somehow he sensed it. "Can I stay here?" she asked, tentatively.

He didn't know what to say. He wanted to keep holding her, but all too soon, he knew, the term would start and they'd have to get used to seeing one another very little. It hurt every time he pushed her away, but wouldn't indulging in this closeness now make it harder for them to separate when they needed to? Still, he found himself nodding, knowing she would see the motion in the silvery glow of moonlight falling on his onyx hair.

For the first time in weeks, Hermione slept peacefully. The rise and fall of his chest against her back, and the warmth of their tangled limbs left her feeling safe enough to drift into nothingness, for a while, at least.

The sun was rising by the time she woke again. She knew it must be early, and was amazed by how rested she felt. She shifted slowly, carefully, so that she could face Severus without waking him. The blended burning magentas and creamsicle oranges of the sunrise shone on the hair that fell over his pale face. When he slept, there was an innocence and openness in his face she'd never seen before. He looked younger, almost vulnerable. His eyes drifted open, and she blushed, knowing she'd been caught staring, but he only smiled and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

"Good morning." he murmured into her hair.

Hermione was lost in thought for a moment, wondering if, perhaps, she was still dreaming. He nudged her gently and she looked up into his eyes.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

She groaned in response. "All you ever do is feed me."

"You need to eat."

Her stomach growled and he smirked at her, raising one eyebrow. She let out an indignant huff, sitting up, still holding the bed sheet to her chest self-consciously. "Can I at least take a shower first?"

"Fine, but no stalling for time. You get an hour."

The hot water felt wonderful running down Hermione's body. She had thought, for a moment, of asking Severus to shower with her, but her insides twinged nervously at the thought. Letting him peel away her clothes in the heat of passion was one thing; she wasn't sure she was ready to stand before him naked with nowhere to hide. She washed her hair slowly, carefully working the sweet smelling suds through every strand. It had been nearly an hour by the time she was dressed, even though she hadn't been intentionally slow.

"I almost came in after you." Severus remarked, looking over his paper as she sat down across from him. Hermione blushed, and quickly poured herself a cup of tea.

"It takes women longer to get ready. You should know that."

"Obviously I should be an expert on the habits of women."

"What are we doing today?"

"First we'll have to remake the potion that was... compromised yesterday. I also need to prepare some things for the supply cupboard."

Hermione shuddered, and Severus raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to speak. "I'm not going to spend all afternoon gutting slugs, am I?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "I would think, Miss Granger," he said, suddenly adopting the stern tone he often used when addressing a particularly frustrating student, "that by now you could appreciate the importance of even the subtler details involved in potion making."

Years of being reprimanded in class made Hermione sit up straight and look remorseful for a moment before realization flashed across her face and she stuck her little pink tongue out at him.

"Very mature." He remarked drily, but she could see the suppressed laughter sparkling behind his eyes. "I'd like to get started shortly." He glanced pointedly at her plate.

She smiled at him sweetly. "I'm not really hungry. We can get started now if you'd like, _Professor_."

He folded his arms stiffly across his chest and looked at her.

"Oh fine," she huffed, "but will you at least go back to reading? I hate it when people watch me eat."


End file.
